Someone to Save You
by xbballbolin
Summary: "You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, cousin." Join the wildcard warrior as he travels back to protect his promise. Au. RevelationFic.
1. Prelude

**This is the Prelude for SOMEONE TO SAVE YOU  
>I want to thank the people that'd read Identity Chrisis… and I hope you enjoy this new fic.<br>I don't own Charmed.**

Two boys were cousins raised like brothers. One was born of demon descent, the other angel. When the unexpected happens the wild card warrior will risk everything for the other, for family because, in the end, that's what the Halliwells do best.

The year's 2023. The once beautiful city of Los Angeles is now a battle scarred wasteland. The City of Angels is now the City of Devils; the demon infestation capital of the world. Everything is demolished, the sounds of demons rioting in the street echo beneath him as he stands on what's left of the bridge, and smoke is rising from fires burning merrily away in the streets. Huge, black clouds cover the city in darkness. Everything about this future is evil, even the weather.

But it wasn't always this way. The twenty two year old remembers blue skies that never went away. He remembers Halliwell family dinners, trips to the ocean, the sound advice of his mother, training with him… but they've faded with years. His nostalgic trance is broken at the sounds of heavy boots thudding across the steel. The footsteps were slowed in a nonchalant manner that makes the movement as unique as a fingerprint.

Chris: Hello, his _lordship_. I was wondering how many demons needed destroyed before you would show. (looks at what's left of street below)Fifty three, on case you're wondering.  
>Wyatt (looking down at the demon carcasses on the bridge): So I see. How very… demonic of you.<p>

For the first time since his arrival, the half breed turns to look at the dark witchlighter. Wyatt was like the city due to the fact everything about him screamed evil, even that stupid evil goatee and shoulder-length, curly, blond mess of hair. His eyes, that would be the most brilliant shade of blue, are dulled to an unfeeling navy. Even his stupid clad black attire screams evil. It makes Chris sick, and he's the half-bred demon. Chris sneers at his cousin, large white teeth grinning at Wyatt like a devilish kind of taunt.

Chris: Say that again and I'll show you just how demonic I can be, Wy.

Chris's threat was hardly taken seriously by the twice blessed. Not once, not twice, but THREE times the half-bred warrior went toe to toe with his lordship and not once had he been able to bring himself to kill Wyatt, nor could Wyatt kill Chris. The blood flowing within their veins, memories within their heads, and corners of their hearts forbade it. But what it didn't forbid was Wyatt picking at Chris's demonic side and Chris picking at Wyatt's angelic side.

Wyatt: Idle threats… really Christopher. If I believed you were more than a mere thorn in my side that will eventually succumb to the darkness within his very soul and join me, you'd be in the crypt with your mother or in the dimension of despair that I thrust your father into.

Growls resonate from deep within Chris's chest, the venomous words pulling the worst part of him out. In a quick motion he sweeps the Twice-blessed's feet out from beneath him and as the villain landed hard on the beam, Chris conjures an athame and presses it to his cousin's throat.

Chris: I didn't come here to kill you, Wyatt!

Wyatt's face remained stoic as the he watched the fire blazing within Chris's eyes.

Wyatt: You've got a funny way of showing it, _cousin_.

As the pressure lessens on Wyatt's throat, his smile grows wider and wider until Chris wonders whether or not his face will split in two and he'd be done with this mess. But Chris shakes the thought from his head, remembering the purpose of this little meeting.

Chris: You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, _cousin_.

He accentuated the word cousin like an intended insult then shimmers out with a smirk. It was a smirk of a man with a plan. Chris has an ace up his sleeve and tricks in his pocket. For the first time in what feels like an eternity, the fearless dictator isn't so fearless. Christopher Benjamin Turner-Halliwell was now more than a thorn in his side. He is the someone who'd save him. The question is how.

**REVIEW!**


	2. Chapter One

**When Chris goes to the past it's set in the episode Sam I Am.  
>The whole nonsense with Cole and the Avatars didn't happen.<br>Henry Jr. is orbed out of his pregnant mother by Paige (just as he was in the comics) except his mother was whitelighter instead of mortal.  
>I don't own Charmed.<br>Last but not least, review and let me know what ya' think!**

After orbing to a few remote locations as a precautionary measure to make sure he wasn't followed, Chris shimmered into the Resistance stronghold. Despite his foul mood, he smiled and would acknowledge those who greeted him in his movement from point A to point B. After all, innocents and those who couldn't defend themselves properly motivated the warrior to keep going, to keep fighting this seemingly fruitless battle.

Upon entering the Department of Defense office, Chris was saluted by ever man, woman, whitelighter, and magical being alike. The smile falters on his lips. They look to him to be the leader placing the weight of the world on his shoulders. He didn't ask for the job. God knows he didn't want it, but that didn't stop it from being thrust upon him.

Chris: At ease.

When everyone goes back to work, he proceeds with his slightly rapid pace. He does so until he's in the auto shop and sets his sights on his younger cousin's feet sticking out from under a Humvee. You wouldn't know he wasn't a blood related Halliwell just by looking at him. In fact, he looked more like Paige than Wyatt did Piper. Chris swears he has her chocolate brown eyes and his father's tall dark and handsome good looks.

Chris: Whataya' up to, Junior?  
>Junior: Just trying to get this piece of shit Humvee up and running again. (slides out from underneath the car and takes in his cousin's slightly disheveled appearance that adorned a wide array of demon goo.) Where've you been?<br>Chris: (shrugs shoulders) Out.

The teenager sits up from his lying position and rests his arm that's holding a wrench on his knee. His cousin's response was as transparent to him as a person using invisibility. How could he not be able to read him so well? He'd been looking up to Chis for as long as he could remember, following him and wanting to be just like him. Except for he could do without Chris's inability to accept evilness has blackened Wyatt's heart to the point it's unrecognizable.

Junior: And how is our _dear_ cousin doing?

A horribly sarcastic tone was sprinkled with venom. There is a fair share of hate between the two boys and Wyatt. The oldest cousin was responsible for torturing innocents with his powers and killing them. Wyatt disgraces the Halliwell name- a name that was once associated with good and honor. The boys had to hide their connection to even be able to walk the streets without the threat of being hung from the gallows. In an attempt to play off the altercation as nothing and avoid an awkward conversation, Chris responds simply with another shoulder shrug.

Chris: He's alive.  
>Junior: M'sorry to hear that.<p>

Chris's brow furrows in a look of disapproval and he crosses his arms. The stance reminds Junior of the stance Cole and his father did whenever the boys were misbehaving and unruly. It makes him crings slightly and jump to his own defense.

Junior: Don't give me that look Chris! (watches as Chris holds stance and expression) For Christ's sakes he's evil!  
>Chris: He's family… and you said, and I quote, 'He hasn't always been evil. It's as if there was a seed of evil that just grew over time and thrived when Piper was murdered.'<br>Junior: I say a lot of things I don't mean!  
>Chris: Well I think you were right and I'll prove it. Operation Overhaul is going to be our salvation. You'll see.<br>Junior: Do you honestly believe that?

Who knew five words could be such a loaded question. Wyatt wasn't always evil. There was a time when Chris looked up to Wyatt in the same way Henry does him. Then he started changing. First it was little things; demon hunting for fun, defying orders, acting out, tantrums, refusing to share. It was as if he walked a tight rope his whole life and his mother's death shoved him off into the darkness. Chris didn't know whether or not Wyatt was just born evil but he had to believe that it hadn't always been that way.

Chris: I have to.

A huff of disapproval escaped the whitelighter's lips as he slowly shook his head from side to side. Despite his feelings for Wyatt, he believed in Chris whole heartedly. He also knows that once Chris makes up his mind, it's set. One of the many Halliwell traits they all shared. Getting to his feet, the teen casts his wrench aside and takes the shop rag out of his pocket to wipe the grease from his hands without a word.

Chris watches curiously as his cousin wipes the sweat from his brow with the shoulder of his shirt and walks over to the workbench. On the bench is a little black and white pinstriped pocketbook. Holding the book in his hand, the young half-whitelighter throws the book to Chris who catches it and looks at Henry confused.

Chris: What's this?  
>Junior: If you're so set on going to the past you might as well go prepared. (Chris begins flipping through) I didn't want you to go into this mission half assed prepared. There's important dates, lottery numbers that won't change too much if you were to say cash in tickets with those numbers, and—<p>

He chews his bottom lip as if he didn't know whether or not he should share his information and Chris plays the waiting game a few moments, figuring that if he can sit through a twelve hour stakeout waiting out the teen would be a piece of cake. After a few false starts, the nineteen year old divuld his answer

Junior: And the sketches of the demons that killed Aunt Piper, Aunt Phoebe, Mom, and Dad. You know, on case you're wrong about your pre-conception guess.

The twenty-two year old flips through pages of information on Phoebe, Piper, and Paige for the year 2002, the pictures, dates, and numbers surprised at the detail. There was no way Henry Jr. could know all this. He didn't even know half the information provided.

Chris: Where'd you get this?  
>Junior: Mom's journals.<p>

The teen had his mother's journals in his possession for half a decade but could never bring himself to open them until now. The look on his face said it all. He was afraid for his cousin, afraid for their future, and felt helpless to do anything about it. He wanted to help Chris, no matter the cost to himself- another trait that screamed Halliwell.

Chris: You know everything's going to be okay, right?  
>Junior: (sheepishly): Yeah, yeah. Of course, Chris.<br>Chris: I promise you, Junior. I'm going to save them. We'll be a family again… cue happy music and end scene.  
>Junior: How can you be so sure?<br>Chris: Because I've got too much riding on this mission to fail.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Phoebe Halliwell watches as the potion vials by her sisters shatter at her ex-husband's feet. All she'll have to do is throw this small vial to the floor and Cole Turner will be no more. It's that easy… wait a minute. It's that easy? It couldn't be that easy. Her attention goes to the desk behind him and takes in the envelope leaning up against their photo addressed to her and the ring beside it.

Piper: Phoebe, come on!

As her sister eggs her on, Phoebe's attention goes back to Cole and sees the hope in his brilliantly blue eyes.

Phoebe: I know what you're doing.  
>Paige: Phoebe, throw the potion.<br>Phoebe: You never really wanted to kill us, did you?  
>Paige: What are you talking about?<br>Phoebe: He could've killed you back at the manor, he had you alone. But you needed all of us to survive for your plan to work, including Sam.  
>Piper: Phoebe, have you lost your mind?<br>Phoebe: No, you said it yourself. It wasn't a smart plan. Unless you didn't really wanted to kill us. You wanted us to be so blinded by hate that we couldn't see what you were really up to.  
>Cole: Well, it's the only way out for me. And you want it too, so...<br>Phoebe: Yeah, but on our terms, not yours. We won't help you commit suicide.  
>Cole: You already have.<p>

Coles hand files forward and he telekinetically pulls the vial from his ex-wife's hand. Eyes widen as the vial escaped her hand and sailed through the air preparing to collide with the floor. It was as if it moved in slow motion. She watches the eagerness in Cole's eyes and a victory smirk transform his features. She closes her eyes as she swears tears begin to form and braces herself for an impact that never comes.

Paige: What, no explosion?

Phoebe's hands move from shielding her face and eyes go to an obviously shocked group. Nobody knows where the vial went… nobody except for the boy that holds the vial in his extended hand. With the clearing of his throat four sets of eyes go to him and take in the stranger. He is handsome, devilishly so. His features chiseled like a finely-carved Michelangelo statue- strong jawed and whittled by perfection. His hair is brown and shaggy styled in casual disarray with side-swept bangs. Holes are present in the knee of his jeans, his white t-shirt has a bit of ash on it and is under a black leather jacket, and his heavy soled boots thud across the floor as he nears.

Piper: Who the hell are you?  
>Chris: Chris, uh Chris Mitchel. I'm… I'm from the future.<p>

After stumbling over his statement he can't help but keep his attention on the floor. It was like he was eight years old again and accidently set Aunt Pearl's couch on fire with his pyrokineisis and couldn't deny it to his parents' faces without showing them knowing he was lying.

Paige: Friend or Foe?  
>Chris: Friend.<br>Piper(same exact time as Chris): Foe.  
>Chris: What? Foe? Seriously?<br>Piper: You just saved Cole!  
>Chris: It doesn't work anyways. All I did was save you from getting knocked on your ass by a wicked explosion.<p>

As the three sisters share matching looks of disbelief, his shoulders sag. He knew it'd hurt going back and being looked at as a stranger by the people he loves but seeing his dad attempt suicide and his mother and aunts look at him with distrust in their eyes was eating him alive. He'd rather be dumbed in boiling water.

In an attempt to erase the look in his family's eyes he walks across the room and positions himself between the sisters and Cole flipping the vial from finger to finger and back again at a quickened pace. He makes sure his back is to the Charmed Ones, knowing they were probably shooting him looks that could kill.

Chris: Don't believe me? Fine. Just kind of um… brace yourselves.

Before they asked what he meant by that, Chris throws the vial down at his father's feet. A fiery explosion of power blows out the doors and windows of the room and the warrior stood his ground throwing up his shield to protect the Charmed Ones from its might. Looking over his shoulder, he sees they'd all ducked expecting to be tossed by the explosion. Phoebe rolls off her stomach to turn and see the stranger standing over her with his hand extended.

Chris: You alright, Mo- Ms. Halliwell?

Phoebe hesitantly takes the man's hand and once upright, she looks through the smoke that has begun to clear and sees Cole's figure.

Phoebe: Oh my God!

The smoke finally clears to reveal Cole breathing heavily, his chest heaving up and down. Chris gaps the distance between he and Cole before patting the man on the shoulder and shaking his head.

Chris: Heat to break it to you but you're kind of invincible. Tough break.

He moves past Cole, swiping the letter from the table discretely while doing so. He walks over to the French doors, glass going crunch beneath his feet. The place he was born and raised in such a disarray wasn't anything new but looking at the French doors in such a state sends him back to a different place and time that he swore he'd never go again.

_Chris: Mom! _

A cosmic pull brings him forward towards the glass as he relives his mother being thrust through the doors and over the edge. He walks forward through the doors and out onto the balcony and to the railing. He's about to look over the edge but snaps himself out of the dreamlike trance.

She was standing behind him, alive and well her mangled body isn't on the ground below twisted in horrible unimaginable angels. To stop his stomach from churning he has to get out and he has to get rid of the wreckage if he doesn't want to go back there.

Chris: To make this seem like just a dream, allow this scene to be unseen. (The edges of his lips curl into a smirk and he looks in the Charmed Ones direction) I'll be seeing you.

**Review!  
>Please<br>**


	3. Chapter Two

**Cole**-Sparkling, Sensing, Mediumship, Invisibility, Fading Molecular Immobilization, casting Energy Balls, and Fireballs, Telekinesis, Pyrokinesis, Force Fields, Shapeshifting, Regeneration, Reconstitution, Conjuring, Mind Control, Summoning, Transformation, Demonic Projection, Molecular Manipulation, Chrono-Telekinesis, Sensing, Invincibility, Immortality, Pressurization and Power Granting

**Wyatt-**Spell Casting, Scrying, Potion Making, Telekinesis, Combustive Orbing, Molecular Dispersion, Voice manipulation, Orbing, High Resistance, Agility, Invincibility, Sensing, Omnilingualism, Projection, Telepathic, Energy Balls. Shield forming

**Henry Jr.-** Spell Casting, Scrying, Potion Making, Telekinesis, Agility, High Resistance, Telepathy

**Chris**- Spell Casting, Scrying, Potion Making, Telekinesis, High Resistance, Agility, Molecular Immobilization, Energy Balls, Fireballs, Pyrokineisis, Forcefields, Shape shifting, Molecular Manipulation, Chrono-Telekenisis, Pressurization.

**Paige, Phoebe, Piper, and Leo have same powers that they did at the point of the episode Sam I Am.  
>Also a little mishap last chapter. Chris doesn't orb but I was so used to writing him as someone that could from my other story. He SHIMMERS no ORB.<strong>

**Now that's out of the Way, ENJOY!**

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The halfbreed enters the penthouse through the elevator this time. His father was always irked when a stranger orbed or shimmered into his home without permission. _Stranger_. Technically that's what he is. He's not his father's buddy yet or his mother's tiger. In this time, as far as they're concerned, he's not a Turner or a Halliwell.

Though he did feel pretty proud that he was able to think not to use his real last name and he loved his Uncle Henry, It felt as uncomfortable as wearing someone else's underwear being Christopher Mitchell. It almost feels as strange as taking the elevator up to his dad's. Upon entering, he called out his father's name but didn't get a response. The question should he leave finds its way into his thoughts but is quick to dismiss it when he starts to remember.

He sees him and his father playing indoor baseball in the open floor planned room. Cole pitches the socks rolled up into a ball to the seven year old version of himself. He swings. Strike one. He chokes up on the bat a bit and a determination takes over his features. The balls thrown again and this time he connects sending the ball sailing over his father's head and out over the balcony into the streets below. He runs from pillow to pillow until he's back at home and his dad throws him over his shoulder acting like he'd just won his team the game.

He absentmindedly moves into the kitchen and notices even in this time, the kitchen's hardly used. His father never really did cook except for every other Thursday when they'd have family dinner just him his dad and mom. That was really the only time they sat at the table and ate too. Dinner in front of the TV watching whatever sporting event was going on was usually their thing. Homework was done at the table though. First thing he'd have to do when staying with his dad was get his homework done.

Chris moves back into his room which was currently an office. He slowly shook his head from side to side. It wouldn't be this clean and organized for long. At the manor, his room always had to be in pristine condition so Cole kind of let him do as he pleased. Cole didn't know it yet but he'd probably spend more hours in this room than he does now. Whether it was video games, air hockey, basketball, or playing with the millions of other toys his father spoiled him with, Chris and Cole would spend many lost weekends in that room.

Cole: Well I'd invite you in but I see you already invited yourself.

Chris jumps so high that he almost bashes his head against the top of the doorframe before turning to his father with a sheepish expression.

Chris: Pardon my impoliteness, Mr. Turner.  
>Cole: Call me Cole after all you seem to know us in the future.<p>

Fear clenches Chris in its grip, the wildcard warrior barely able to swallow the large lump that is forming in his throat. He pushes himself to remain calm and give away no information, his reaction one Cole is monitoring closely. Chris knows his father's fishing but that doesn't stop him from flinching. His dad knew him too well.

Chris: What makes you say that?  
>Cole: Well for starters you knew the potion doesn't work and seemed awfully careful to make sure they didn't get hurt. And then there's the fact you just stiffened up when I inferred you knew us.<br>Chris: Anyone that's ever picked up a history book at magic school could tell you everything you need to know about the Charmed Ones and their exploits. You too, Cole Turner once known as Balthazar and the Source, and son of Benjamin Turner.  
>Cole: Do those books mention me and Phoebe together.<p>

They do mention him and Phoebe together, well up until he became the source and they got divorced. After that it tells about him assisting on several escapades and the one night stand in which Chris was conceived. After that they were… well Chris didn't know what they were. His mother loved Cole and Cole loved her but they never got back together, something they both regretted. He partially blamed himself for them never getting back together, figuring neither wanted to cross that line and risk hurting him if it didn't work out. But he couldn't tell Cole that. Instead he responds in a fashion that'd grow to be typical.

Chris: Future consequences.  
>Cole: (nods in understanding but still asked) So that's how it's going to be?<br>Chris: That's how it has to be. If I tell you too much I could change the future in unimaginable ways.  
>Cole: Well aren't you supposed to change the future?<br>Chris: This is supposed to be more of a preemptive strike.  
>Cole: Preemptive strike?<p>

Since when was his father a man of a million questions? Chris looks at the other gentleman, his expression one of clear annoyance. How much could he tell without getting himself killed? It was a tricky question and dealing with a clearly insane man doesn't help any.

Chris: Something happens to Piper's child and when I said the spell to help me find what time it happened, it brought me to the here and now.  
>Cole: So in other words you have no idea the who, the what, when, where, or why and you're in a time that's foreign to you. Sound about right?<br>Chris: Yeah but not much has changed in the past twenty years or so.

Cole: Do you at least have a strategy, money, a place to stay?  
>Chris: Yeah, about that… I was hoping to have the Charmed One's on my side but our first meeting didn't go remotely as well as I'd planned. They, they think I'm evil.<br>Cole: And shimmering out of here probably didn't help your cause any.  
>Chris: (snaps) I'm not a demon… well not entirely. I'm a halfbreed.<br>Cole: Well halfbreed if you don't mind living with a crazy person, the couch is yours.  
>Chris: Depends. Is this one of those keep your friends close, enemies closer type deals or is this out of the goodness of your heart.<br>Cole: Maybe both. Didn't anyone ever teach you not to question the motives of a crazy man?

At the question, Chris smirks. In this decade or the next, Chris still found his father's antics humorous. Bridging the gap, he shakes his father's hand, thanks him for a place to crash and then responds to the man's question.

Chris: You're not half as crazy as you think you are, Cole.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The next morning in the darkest hours before dawn Phoebe Halliwell thrashed around in her plush queen sized bed madly. She was having a nightmare but not just any nightmare. It's a nightmare that's been plaguing her mind for over a week. Though most of it's different the endgames the same. He kills her.

_She's running. Feet moving at the rapid pace that tells you she could very well be running for her life. Through the dark wooded area she moves, the only light is the light the moon casts. Fear. More fear than she's ever felt surges through her being. Why was she so afraid? She wasn't sure. All she knew was she was. _

_Distorted Voice: You can't run forever, Phoebe!_

_She looks over her shoulder but doesn't stop due to the voice screaming in her head for her to keep moving. Then Boom! She runs straight into Cole. She scrambles backwards, never quite making it to her feet._

_Cole: Phoebe? Phoebe it's okay. I'm here now.  
>Phoebe: Cole. C'mon ! We got to move. He's coming.<br>Cole: Who's coming Phoebe?_

_Just then the sound of branches snapping beneath feet sends the brunette up and into Cole's arms. Cole readied himself, extending a hand ready to blast whatever was coming to hell in a hand basket. The figure becomes clear and Cole breathes a sigh of relief dropping his arm._

_Cole: Phoebe, it's just Chris.  
>Phoebe: Stay back!<br>Chris: Phoebe? (inches closer)  
>Phoebe: I said stay away from me!<em>

_Chris had betrayal burning in his eyes as his heart sank to his toes but he still stayed on mission. He always stayed on mission. _

_Chris: Phoebe, c'mon. He's evil.  
>Phoebe: So are you!<br>Chris: I swear to you I'm not.  
>Cole: He's telling you the truth.<br>Phoebe: How can you be so sure?  
>Cole: Because I am. <em>

_Before the words can sink in an athame is driven into her back._

Phoebe: No!

Phoebe shoots into the upright position, heart slamming against her ribcage, and gasping for air. The sound of footsteps racing to her room hits her ears and her sisters come bursting through the door, Piper's hands ready to blow up a demon.

Paige: Phoebe, what happened?  
>Piper: We heard you scream.<br>Phoebe: I… I… I had a nightmare.

Her sisters blew a sigh of relief but still took seats on either side of the bed trying to calm their sister's nerves.

Paige: You want to talk about it?  
>Phoebe: I really don't remember what happened. I was running through the woods and… and I don't remember.<br>Piper: (teasingly) Was it the Woogeyman again?  
>Phoebe: (leering) No, it wasn't the Woogeyman… it was, ugh I don't remember.<p>

Piper and Paige had another teasing suggestion but both knew who the nightmare was about. After all, if your psychotic ex-husband was invincible, you'd be having nightmares too. They never got to voice it though. All three of the sisters hear the creaks of floorboards overhead. Someone is creeping around the attic. All sisters share looks, making sure the others heard it too. They crawl out of Phoebe's bed and tiptoe up the stairs. With the turn of the knob they thrust the door open, Piper immediately freezing its inhabitance.

The Charmed Ones stare at the future boy they learned goes by the name Chris frozen mid telekinetic flip of the page with a pen in his mouth. Piper wondered how he could touch the book if he was demon, Paige wondered why he was looking through the book, and Phoebe wondered why she felt fearful of him. Their thoughts are cut short when his body starts to move in slow motion before breaking the freeze.

Chris: Did you just try to freeze me? That's not very hospitable.  
>Piper: Demons don't deserve hospitality.<br>Chris: (glaring) I'm not a demon!  
>Paige: You shimmered!<br>Chris: So, I'm half demon. You should know better than anyone that you can't choose who your father is.

Knowing that his sarcasm wasn't helping matters any, Chris takes a deep breath. His eyes scan the room and settle on the book infront of him. Chris put up his hands in mock surrender and nods his head towards the book.

Chis: May I?  
>Phoebe: What if you're tying to steal the book?<br>Chris: I guess you'll just have to trust that I'm one of the good guys long enough for me to prove it.  
>Piper: Move a muscle and I'll blow you up.<p>

The halfbreed shakes his head in annoyance putting up his shield in case Piper shoots as he nears the book. His shield was similar to that of Wyatt except Chris could adjust the size or where he wants to protect on his person. The shield he makes is a little larger in diameter than the distance from his knuckles to his elbow. He keeps his arm steady as his other hand reached forward and touched the book

Chris: It trusts me.  
>Piper: Why should we trust you. People have tricked the book before.<br>Chris: I haven't given you a reason not to but I did get you a peace offering.

Piper watches the boy with suspicion as he moved to the potion table and picked up a box beautifully wrapped in soft lime wrapping paper with blue ribbon. Knowing that if he walked it over to her, his chance of getting blown up would increase, Chris plays it safe and sends it to her slowly using telekinesis. It lands in her hands and the halfbreed lowers his shield. With her hands occupied, he feels that much safer.

Piper: What's this?  
>Chris: A baby gift. Go on. Open it.<p>

Hesitantly, Piper does as the halfbreed directed, She peeled off the paper and opened the box to reveal a little baby blue blanket with the Charmed One's symbol embroidered on it in white. They eye him curiously and he wants to laugh.

Phoebe: Blue?  
>Paige: Are you saying that Piper's going to have a -<br>Chris: I'm not saying anything. I'm not allowed to. But I can say that I wouldn't paint the nursery pink.  
>Piper: Are you sure?<br>Chris: You'll just have to trust me on that one.  
>Phoebe: We should trust you just because you told us Piper's baby is a boy?<br>Chris: I'm not asking for complete trust. I'm asking for baby steps.

**Please Review  
>&amp;&amp; thank you to those who have.<strong>


	4. Chapter Three

**Obviously I don't own Charmed!  
>The character of Charlie is very loosely based off the character of Bianca.<br>She's a demonlighter.  
>Check my profile page to get a look at new characters for S2SU<strong>

Phoebe Halliwell is walking down the street with shopping bags in either hand. After two straight weeks watching Chris switching between the clothes he came in and Cole's clothes that are two sizes too big, she decided to buy Future Boy, as Piper insisted on calling him, some clothes that actually fit. Three blocks from the penthouse, she swears she hears the sound of shimmering in the alley behind her.

However, she shakes the feeling and keeps on walking set on reaching Cole's without turning around. The thudding of shoes behind her for the next block and a half makes the suspicion she's being followed grows. A hand goes to her shoulder and a man's voice hits her ears.

Unknown: Give me the bags.

Thinking someone's trying to mug her, her defense mechanism kicks in. L:iterally. She goes to preform a roundhouse kick on the assumed assailant only to have her foot caught by the man she was on her way to see. Chris stood wide eyed staring at the foot in his hands. His attention turns to the person the foot belongs to and sees matching expression of shock.

Phoebe: Oh my God, Chris! I'm so sorry. I didn't know it was you.  
>Chris: (Letting go of her foot and teasingly speaking) Well I should hope not. I'd hate to think that's the kind of welcome I get after coming down her to help you with your bags. (Eying the bags) What's in them anyways, if you don't mind me asking?<br>Phoebe: Not at all, I just got you some clothes.

His eyes were wider with disbelief than they did when she almost kicked his head off. Judging by his expression, you'd believe she just handed him the keys to a new Mustang. Hadn't anyone ever given him something clothes before? Certainly his mother must have… then she remembers the conversation they had before.

_Piper: There's nothing more important than my family.  
>Chris: Yeah, well pay attention because where I come from families hardly exist. I never got to know mine.<em>

Ugh, she just wanted to hug him. But she settles for smiling and handing him the bags.

Chris: I don't know what to say.  
>Phoebe: How about thanks Phoebe, you're the best. Let me help you with those.<br>Chris: (laughing) Thanks Phoebe, you're the best. Let me help you with those… and then we can go take care of a demon (looks around) demonstration.  
>Phoebe: Again? That's your sixth one this week.<br>Chris: (sheepishly) Right, my sixth one.  
>Phoebe: Chris, how many demon… strations have you done this week.<br>Chris: (shoulder shrug) I don't know. I lost count at about sixteen.  
>Phoebe: Sixteen!<br>Chris: No big deal.  
>Phoebe: Chris, it's only Tuesday.<br>Chris: You get the Power of Three to help me with this one and I'll take tomorrow off.  
>Phoebe: First Cole's, then food, followed by demon slaying?<br>Chris: Deal.

The upper level demon is quickly joined by his minions. Over four dozen demons shimmer in instantaneously surrounding the Charmed Ones, Cole, and Chris. Immediately Chris and Cole put up their shields encircling the five of them.

Paige: Anyone got any brilliant ideas?  
>Phoebe and Piper: Nope.<br>Chris: Maybe.

Chris examines their shield. His half of the shield met up with his father's forming one that'd resemble Wyatt's. Only Chris's had a special quality, a quality he hoped his father's did too. He swallows the lump in his throat and prays the strength and similarities of their powers wouldn't give his identity away.

Chris: (forging cluelessness) Cole do you have Pyrokineisis?  
>Cole: Yeah.<br>Paige, Phoebe, and Piper: You do?  
>Chris: Set your side of the shield on fire and expand it outward on the count of three.<br>Cole: 1, 2, 3, then go or go on three?  
>Chris: (Glaring) Just go on three.<p>

The count of three Cole and Chris expand their fire coated shield incinerating every demon in its path except for the upper level. Chris's nostril takes in the scent of burnt flesh and he smirks. The demonic side of him loved the bloodshed and the witch in him loved that he and his father did it. He uses telekinesis to hold the demon in place as they say the spell and wants to cheer as it turns into a pile of ash on the floor.

Suddenly, the sound of a slow clap in the distance assaults his ears and his blood runs cold. When he actually lets himself look the woman in the eye that took his heart- or what was left of it anyway- and stomped on it, old feelings long buried resurrect. Her eyes make the stars look dull by comparison. The shimmery halos of blue surrounding her pupils remind him of the halos angels wear atop their heads. Come to think of it, if he were to look up the word angel in the dictionary, he would surely find the image of Peyton Price exactly as she appears before him in this very moment, her mere presence embodying every meaning of the word.

Loose mocha spirals of hair are perfectly sculpted to compliment her angelic face. Those lips are a taste of perfection, equally sensual and soft. Her tall slender figure has been kissed by the sun giving her a nice crisp tan complexion. She was a goddess… but what was she doing here?

Chris: Charlie? Wha—how?

That gravitational pull she has on him drew him in like a moth to a flame. For as long as he remembers, he's been so madly in love with this girl and now she was back. A thousand questions made their way through his mind but all silenced by a single statement.

_Charlie: We will have forever and always, Chris. Someday._

Maybe now was their someday. Maybe now they could… His thoughts cut short when the beautiful brunette's eyes blacken and she delivers a spinning back kick into his chest. And presses an athame to his throat the second he hits the ground.

Paige: Chris!  
>Charlie: One more step and I slit his throat.<br>Chris: C'mon Pretty Girl. What happened to you?

A devious grin tarnishes the girl's beautiful features and Chris dies a little bit in side. Just when he thinks he can't feel any worse, she flashes him the rock on her finger, the one that wasn't his but hauntingly familiar. Chris knows his heart cannot physically break but from a scientific standpoint it shatters.

Charlie: I got engaged. His lordship says hey by the way. Ya' know, he's real anxious to see you.  
>Chris: Might as well apply more pressure then. The only way I'm going back is in a body bag.<br>Charlie: Don't tempt me.  
>Chris: (tauntingly) What happened to forever and always?<br>Charlie: It died the day you left me for dead.  
>Chris: How much has he warped that pretty little head of yours, Char?<p>

Feeling the blade being lifted from his throat the slightest bit, Chris acts. His arm slides under her legs knocking her on her butt and he's on his feet in the time it takes the other's to blink. Unfortunately for him, she's just as fast. She's popped back onto her feet determined to shift the odds back into her favor. When Charlie Genevieve Gracin is determined, there's no stopping her.

Chris decides to stick with the defense knowing how impeccable hers is and that he could never physically hurt Charlie. Charlie attacks with a series of rapid punches and kicks obviously out for blood. After he ducks under a punch, and his eyes catch the glint of something around her neck, under the grey scarf she wears. She swings her arm again and Chris ducks under it grabbing the chain and giving it a tug. The battle stills as Chris holds the necklace in his hand with a disbelieving expression. On the necklace was an angel pendant to remind her what she was if she ever had any doubt.

Chris: (raising the necklace towards her) This is you… Not whoever it is _he _convinced you are.  
>Charlie: Don't talk about him.<br>Chris: Fine, let's talk about us. I told you nothing would ever happen to you and I failed once but I promise I won't again… Just snap out of whatever hold he's got on you. Please Char.

Chris dares to close the gap between them and wrap her in his arms. For a moment he swears he feels her leaning into his embrace but then he feels her hands pushing against his chest to fend him off. He holds tighter and tighter, refusing to let her go again. Then she did something he didn't expect. She uses her powers. Through her hands she released energy repelling him backwards.

He slides back and for a moment, her attention flashed over to Cole and the Charmed Ones. Looks of confusion and concern flash over their faces and he can see it in Cole's eyes, the hint of a plan. Skidding to a halt, Chris watches as Cole forms an energy ball behind his back. He was going to play hero. Kill the demon and save the boy Phoebe seemed to have taken under her wing. Phoebe gave him a nod at the sight of the energy ball and Chris knew what was about to happen.

Cole throws the energy ball like he's throwing the perfect spiral of a football. The way it spirals through the air with silent perfection that Chris knows Charlie doesn't see coming. It happens so fast that he's not even aware he's doing it. He races towards Charlie casting aside any concern for his own well-being to protect the promise he renewed just a moment ago. His arms wrap around her and he shifts them into a one eighty. That's when it hits. The raw energy forces him forward as he tackles her.

A primal cry escapes his lips as he crashes into the ground on top of Charlie. Even on the ground he supports his weight with his forearms in order to avoid crushing her. His hair hangs down around his face as she realizes the anguish in his features. He's been hit. The smoke rises from his back as he whispers words softly into his ear.

Chris: Told you I wouldn't let anything happen to you, Char.

With that, he rolls off onto the ground and focuses on her trying to calm his erratic breathing. For a minute the blackness switches to the blue he knew. Then he hears the sound of racing footsteps and watches as she orbs out in a combination of dark and light orbs. His eyes stay focused on the spot she just inhabited until a new person inhabits the space and begins to tell him to hold on that they'll take him to Leo.

He couldn't bring himself to care.  
>How could he when his heart just orbed off to God knows where.<p>

**Review... and thank you to those who have. **


	5. Chapter Four

Chris lay flat on his stomach on Aunt Pearl's couch staring off blankly into the distance as Leo tries to heal the halfbreed. Needless to say, his mind is elsewhere. It'd been one year, seven months, and twenty one days since the last time he'd seen her- not that he's been counting every excruciatingly long day since then praying that he'd see her again.

Suddenly he feels the sparks he'd forgotten to mention to Leo, the thing he swore the whitelighter was supposed to have learned from a long time ago.

Chris: Leo, stop!  
>Leo: It's not done yet.<br>Chris: Yeah but unless you want to be part superhero and fly across the room, you'll stop.  
>Leo: … Right. Forgot you were half-<br>Chris: Demon, yeah.  
>Phoebe: But you're not fully healed.<br>Chris: I'll live but sorry about the shirt.  
>Phoebe: I'm not concerned about the shirt, Chris. You could have been killed.<br>Chris: It's just a little burn.  
>Piper: At least let us dress it.<br>Chris: I don't have time for this. It's healed fine anyways.

Chris moves into pushup position to push himself up off the couch when he feels the stings between his shoulder blades. With a grunt and more effort than usual, Chris pushes himself into siting position and standing up beside the couch.

Paige: Wanna bet? Shirt!

The muscular physique of the halfbreed was revealed and jaws dropped. No, not because his of that but because his back was hardly recognizable underneath the series of scars and burns. His scars tell a story that nobody in the room wishes to read. He doesn't turn to them right away. He stands in place, eyes slowly moving down to his exposed chest. Then he slowly turns around to face the room filled with shocked and horrified expressions crossing his arms over his chest to cover the scar on his ribcage where his dear cousin carved the Power of Three symbol into his flesh so everyone knew he was a Halliwell.

Paige: Oh my God, Chris. I'm so sorry. I didn't know that-  
>Chris: It's okay, Paige. I… I'm going to go grab a shirt.<p>

With a swiftness, the halfbreed shimmers out leaving the room in stunned silence. Many in the room see him in the new light. The boy carries himself like a man, like a decorated warrior that's all business all the time. Now they see a victim. Phoebe looks to Cole and the two of them have one of those telepathic like conversations with their eyes before he holds his hand out for her to take and shimmering after him.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

The second he enters the Turner penthouse, Chris grabs his grey wifebeater and slips it on, wasting little time. He's a man on a mission, a warrior with a cause. Save Charlie. The rest of the world could wait. He opens the floor to ceiling cabinets that acts as an armory. Just as he's about to select an athame, his eyes go to the mirror inside the door.

It's peculiar not to recognize the man in the mirror staring back at you. The pain ridden expression, the dull unfeeling navy of his eyes, and the broken demeanor are all foreign to him. But he would have to be an idiot to not know why he feels the way he does now.

The words may as well have taken bodily form, jabbed its fist into his chest, and yanked out his heart. Without her it has no reason for beating anyways. He pulls the ring out of his pocket that he's been carrying with him since she slipped it back into his hand that night.

_Charlie: Chris, you're hurt.  
>Chris: This could be my last, my only chance to bring honor to my family tree. I've got to take down Wyatt.<br>Charlie: You're hurt. You're weak… but I'm not. _

He closes his eye and he can see it. The question of what the hell she means on his lips until it's replaced with hers. She presses her lips passionately against his in a fashion only describable as a goodbye kiss. Then she slipped her ring into his hand before pulling his access bracelet from his wrist affectively kicking him out of his Lordship's Castle. Standing in the mirror with his eyes focused intently on the ring is how his mother and father find him.

Phoebe: (whispering to Cole) Is that what I think it is?  
>Cole: (Whispering back to Phoebe) Afraid so.<p>

Chris's eyes and mind switches from the ring to the familiar presence in the room. Chris slams the door shut, ignoring the burning of tears in his eyes. He moves around the room feinting obliviousness to their presence, gathering the Scrying crystal, map, and the angel necklace he ripped from her neck. They follow him into the kitchen to find him with the map already sprawled out against the table and him Scrying.

Phoebe: You're going after her? Chris she tried to kill you.  
>Chris: There's a difference between threatening to kill and going through with it. Believe me.<br>Phoebe: You know for a fact that she's not going to kill you?  
>Chris: Did you know Balthazar wasn't going to come back and slay you after you spared him? (pauses giving her a chance to answer but knowing she was far too blindsided to actually answer) No. You didn't. You not only put your blind faith in him but in love.<p>

Phoebe Halliwell couldn't help smiling at the passion the usually stoic halfbreed but at the same time she knew how much pain and suffering could spawn from the decision he made. As she prepares to voice her fear for the boy's fate, Cole decides to beat her to the punch.

Cole: Look at how well that turned out for her, Chris. I took that blind faith and drove it deeper into the darkness until she was drowning in it and did what she should have done long before then.

Chris harshly eyes the man before him, the first time his father told him anything but the "I loved your mother and I don't regret one moment we spent together speech". To say it hit close to home would be understated. He wants to lunge over the table, grab his father by the throat, and force him to take it back. Instead, he opts to do the assault with words.

Chris: You're an idiot. Love isn't a fairytale that knows no pain but to people that drown that pain out with unconditional and endless love. All that pain, all that heartbreak wasn't for nothing. It was for love, a love you know as well as I do you wouldn't trade a second of. Neither of you would. (Crystal lands confirming his suspicion.) Now if you don't mind, I've got to save the woman I love.

The halfbreed shimmers out leaving the ex-couple standing alone in an awkward situation. Cole rubs the back of his neck, a little embarrassed that a boy a century younger than him put him in his place while Phoebe didn't really know how to feel.

Cole: (glancing at the map where Chris left the crystal) I… I'll go after him.  
>Phoebe: Did you mean what you said?<br>Cole: Honestly, sometimes I wish you'd have killed me… not because I'd want to give away one single moment we shared together but to spare you the hurt I've put you through. Believe it or not, I never ever wanted to hurt you.  
>Phoebe: I know you didn't…<br>Cole: But?  
>Phoebe: But that doesn't make it just go away.<br>Cole: I know it doesn't but hopefully, someday, you might be able to forgive me and when that day comes I'll be around.

With that the demon shimmers out after the halfbreed determined to catch up to him. Meanwhile Phoebe takes a seat, knees suddenly week. She knew having Cole back in her life semi-regularly would be difficult but there's no denying the butterflies running rampant in her abdomen, the way he makes her feel. A part of her will always be in love with Cole Turner while the rest of her struggles with that simple truth.


	6. Chapter Five

**It's time for another thrilling installment of **_**S2SU.**_**  
>I mentioned before that Charlie is a Demonlighter. That means she has her basic whitelighter abilities and her demon abilities I decided to base off the characters Number 4 and 6 from I am Number Four. (finally watched the movie. Suggest you go see it.)<br>Read… Review… you know what to do.  
>I don't own Charmed.<strong>

A single stream of blood trickles down his chin as he falls to his knees. Ragged, shaky breaths escape Chris's body as he teeters back and forth trying to avoid a face plant into the dirt. Just when the reality becomes almost unavoidable , the demonlighter is there to catch him. Slender fingers tightly grip onto the shirt and fight against the growing weight of the quickly fading halfbreed that's body is getting limper and limper every passing second.

Charlie: Chris… Chris! I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry.  
>Chris: Shhh… S'okay, Pretty Girl.<p>

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

(Thirty Minutes Earlier)

Emotions hit Charlie Gracin with the force of a piledriver. She feels like she's on the giant drop, perpetually plunging farther into the darkness. Just when he thought it'd taken her to the point of no return, he resuscitates her, pulling her from the darkness and that much closer to the light. One cousin pulls her deeper into the depths while the other pulls her back up. The fearless brunette doesn't understand it.

She fiddles with the ring on her finger. _Wyatt_. If he knew what Chris was doing to her, he'd be furious. He'd warned her that the halfbreed would do or say anything to get inside her head and she promised wholeheartedly to complete the mission. She would too… Whatever it takes.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

(Few Minutes Earlier)

Chris shimmers into the secluded part of the beach near the cove. Memories flood his mind but his face remains stoic knowing what's about to go down. He breathes slowly, letting the oxygen in and out of his lungs before turning to the presence he felt the moment he arrived.

Chris: Why'd you pick this spot, Char?  
>Charlie: This spot is still significant, right?<br>Chris: (Scratching his head) I don't know. Refresh my memory. Isn't this the spot some poor schmuck proposed to the girl he was head over heels in love with only to lose her to his cousin some time later?  
>Charlie: Don't do that. Don't.<br>Chris: Don't what?  
>Charlie: Belittle what we had.<p>

Her words send the halfbreed's plan into a tailspin. Maybe, just maybe, his Charlie is back. The thought causes the teen to press that much harder.

Chris: What exactly did we have?  
>Charlie: We were in love… but the keyword here is <em>were<em>.

Blacked out eyes stared up at him with a white fiery hatred that thirsted for blood. Something told him it was his blood in particular it wanted. Yet he stood his ground putting his arms behind his back to show he wouldn't do a thing to stop her. As the wind picks up it sweeps his hair in every which direction and the sand around his feet goes airborne.

Charlie: Are you going to come willingly or am I going to have to—  
>Chris: Kill me. The only way I'm going back to the future is as a corpse. You'll have to kill me.<br>Charlie: You think I won't?  
>Chris: No. The Charlie I know, the woman I love, wouldn't take a life regardless of who's been pulling her strings.<p>

The wind slows but only for a minute. Then it picks with a hurricane like intensity. Shielding his eyes, the halfbreed repetitively called out to the woman he loved. Using telekinesis, Chris pulls her in and wraps his arms tightly around her.

Chris: I love you. I love you. Damn it, Charlie! I love you.  
>Charlie: Let me go!<br>Chris: No! Never again.

The wind picks up and her fists pound madly on his chest. Using lumen- the ability to produce heat and light from her hands- Charlie pushes burning hot hands into is chest. The sheer resilience is prominent on his face as Chris struggles against every burning nerve ending screaming at him to let go. By the time his grip slipped he had two third degree burns in the shape of handprints.

His body is flung by the strong winds backward, arms flailing as if trying to swim back to her before he even hit water. Quickly he makes a note he's only thirty yards away from the coast. The water is getting harder to tread with the waves crashing over his head. Slowly drowning the halfbreed focuses intently on her and shimmers onto the shore.

The foam from waves creeps up onto the shore and he finds himself crawling forward through the water and soaked sand towards her. Coughing up mouthfuls of water he kept going determined to make his point.

Chris: I said forever and always and I meant it, Charlie. Even if forever ends today, I'll die with the words I love you on my breath.

His eyes lock onto hers her and he sees the struggle brewing within. She was fighting the darkness, fighting _him. _Every move she made after that was reluctant, like she wasn't the one calling the shots, her own actions not her own. With tears streaming down her face, a hand extends and takes aim. He moves to his knees but doesn't blink, doesn't flinch showing his readiness to accept his fate.

Charlie: I love you.

Chris smiles sadly, knowing that Charlie's no longer in control of her own actions. Tears fall freely from the demonlighter's eyes as she fires one, two, three lightning bolts to the chest. Fortunately, she's off of the possessions intended target by a few inches, missing the heart but not the lungs. He watches as a cloud of dark smoke leaves her mouth and disappears into the night leaving the woman he loves before his eyes.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

_A single stream of blood trickles down his chin as he falls to his knees. Ragged, shaky breaths escape Chris's body as he teeters back and forth trying to avoid a faceplant into the dirt. Just when the reality becomes almost unavoidable , the demonlighter is there to catch him. Slender fingers tightly grip onto the shirt and fight against the growing weight of the quickly fading halfbreed that's body is getting limper and limper every passing second._

_Charlie: Chris… Chris! I'm sorry. I'm so, so, sorry.  
>Chris: Shhh… S'okay, Pretty Girl.<em>

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**(Present)**

Charlie: Just hang on, okay? Don't leave me.  
>Chris: (breathy) N-Never g-g-gonn-a leave ya' 'lone.<p>

On the ground he lays motionless in pain, breathing uneasy, and clutching his bloody chest with and even bloodier hand. Then his head bobs to the side. The very second oxygen is cut off to his brain it starts firing on all cylinders tapping into every resource to try and keep his body functioning. As a result, all his senses fire off at once. Everything he'd ever known, felt, believed pass in the blink of an eye. This must be why people on the brink of death often say their life flashes before their eyes because, through the scientific wonder that is the human brain, it does.

Within that second, everything flashed, from his first memory to where he is now. It's incredible how fast it's all summed up. After that second everything just fades to black… or at least that's what he expected. Instead, he feels a warm light bathing his chest. With much effort, his eyes open to see the blue-eyed beauty he loved with all his heart healing him. Charlie Gracin was a woman of many talents… healing was just never one of them.

Until now.

The moment the glow fades and she's healed him, a full heal and not just a partial, Chris pulls her down into a kiss, lips crashing and tongues tangling in a passion-filled explosion rekindling the love they've been denied for far too long.

**REVIEW!**


	7. Chapter Six

**Time for another thrilling installment of S2SU**

**I really appreciate those who take the time to review.**

**This chapters dedicated to you :)**

True love is no fairytale that's impervious to pain, but two people wading through the treacherous seas and calming the storms with unconditional love. Chris Halliwell is aware of this fact… way more aware than he'd care to admit. Getting Charlie back isn't the end of the rough seas. They're not going to ride off into the sunset and live happily ever after. No. They've got a job to do, a future to save.

Chris stares out into the ocean, eyes studying the seemingly endless expanse intently, and with wind blowing his hair. Two long, slender arms snake around him from behind and roaming hands move over her chest ready for round two. He turns to face the woman he loves, immediately leaning down and finding her lips for a passionate kiss. His hand cups her cheek and the weight of obligation forces him to try and stop himself before things escalate.

Chris: We should get back.  
>Charlie: Yeah, we should.<br>Chris: (leaning in) Yeah.

She closes the distance between them by standing up on her tippy toes, he bends his head, and their lips collide in a passion filled explosion. Any sign of rational thought flies out of his mind the moment they touch. His body kicks in and takes over, his mouth moving in response to hers and arms that'd been crossed in front of his chest as a sign he meant business grasp at the fabric of her tight white t-shirt along the waist eager to discard of it. Immediately, he does so and lets out a primal growl as he picks her up, her legs wrap around his waist, and Chris carries her back into the cove.

Chris: Or we could let them wait a bit longer.  
>Charlie: I opt for making 'em wait.<p>

Phoebe Halliwell spent the better part of the night walking back and forth across the attic floor. Paige and Leo orbed everywhere they'd seen the halfbreed go in search of him. Piper scryed, scryed, and scryed some more with no success. Cole took the investigation into his own hands figuring the halfbreed was somewhere in the underworld.

Phoebe: Anything yet?  
>Piper: Yeah.<br>Phoebe: Really?  
>Piper: No Pheebs! Scrying is useless, you've got my husband and our sister orbing all across the world, and Cole's in dangerous territory… okay, maybe it's not all bad news.<p>

Her sister's glare grows in intensity as Piper throws her hands up in a so-sue-me gesture. Cole Turner has given their family more reasons to hate, reasons to fear, reasons to question but Piper Halliwell couldn't hate the man he'd been since 'Future Boy' came into the picture. He's done anything and everything that was asked of him to help in the efforts to protect her son.

Piper: Phoebe, I know you sympathize with Future Boy but you cannot let your emotions get the best of you.  
>Phoebe: You don't get it, Piper. You're married to a freaking angel. You didn't get the demon. And Chris is young, naïve, convinced that true love conquers all. He has no idea what he's getting into.<p>

At Phoebe's explanation of Chris's outlook, Piper's stoic expression falters. Just as quickly, the middle sister picks up on her sister's change in demeanor.

Phoebe: What?  
>Piper: Nothing. I just remember there was a time when <em>you<em> believed true love conquers all.

Chris Turner slides on his still damp jeans over his boxers before turning back to see the woman he loves completely clothed, gazing at him in the way only she looks at him.

Chris: You're staring.  
>Charlie: Staring… God, that sounds so stalkerish.<br>Chris: (chuckles) Speaking of stalkerish, are you ready to go see the Charmed Ones.  
>Charlie: Horrible Segway but back on topic. I've been thinking… what if I don't go. I mean, you said it yourself, the Charmed Ones don't trust you and if you put me in the mix, after nearly killing you while possessed, they won't trust you one bit. But if they see how much you've sacrificed, how determined you are to save Wyatt, then they'll have no choice but to… and you hate the idea.<br>Chris: No, you're right it's… it's our smartest move but, but I don't know if I can keep lying, keep pretending that I don't want to throw my arms around my mother and tell her how much I love her and miss her. Messing with time is trickier than imagined for reasons that we didn't even begin to take into account.

Chris runs his fingers through his hair, his own personal sign of frustration. Leaving his hand on the back of his head finger deep in hair, Chris laughs one of those bitter humorless laughs.

Charlie: Hey, look at me. (guides his face with a gentle hand so he's looking at her) You can do this.  
>Chris: How can you be so sure?<br>Charlie: Because you're the kind of guy that rises to challenges and grabs them by the throat. You do everything to keep the people you love, hell, even the people you hardly know, safe. You're kind of incredible that way, Chris Halliwell.

Chris feels her fingers run across the insignia on his ribcage almost as if trying to reawaken the Halliwell within him, the ingenious fighter with more heart than anyone she's ever known and for that he smiles. Because it is almost as if it works. His mind starts running like an Olympic sprinter picking up on every detail he needs to make his plan work.

Chris: This may sound like a ridiculous question but what's your take on spousal abuse.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Blood spurts out between the halfbreed's fingers as he grips his forearm and keeps it elevated. The nasty athame wound would do quite nicely when it came to convincing the Halliwells that it was a bitter fight to the end and he was forced to do the thing he never in a million years would actually do. A series of superficial lacerations and bruises cover his body, a black eye, a broken nose, and blood trickling down his cheek made sure that every detail of his recap went collaborated with a wound.

Then there was the final move that'd supposedly forced Chris to choose between her life and the fate of the worlds- a handprint shaped burn over his heart that penetrated to almost lethal depths. Shimmering into the manor, Chris staggered forward just enough steps to collapse onto Aunt Pearl's couch and take ragged, shaky breaths while he hears Piper calling mercilessly for Leo and Paige to return and Phoebe to kneel at his side grasping onto his arm over his bloodied hand and silently praying for a miracle.

Leo: God, what happened?  
>Piper: Heal now, ask questions later.<p>

Chris doesn't bother to stop Leo, nor does Leo stop himself. In fact, Leo pushes himself to the limits in the attempt to heal the halfbreed to the best of his abilities. With a shock, the whitelighter is sent flying backwards in the attic, continuing to move backwards until he crashes into the man that'd just shimmered in. Cole staggers back a few steps but catches the whitelighter in the end. The whitelighter nods his thanks but quickly returns to the halfbreed.

Chris takes the necessary steps to get some air into his chest, bracing himself for his OSCAR worthy act. Swinging his feet off the couch and sitting upright, Chris wore the expression of horror and heartbreak. His hands go through his hair and in front of his eye as his elbows find their place on his knees.

Chris: Oh God. Oh God. I… I… Oh God!

The usually stoic halfbreed in the midst of a breakdown lets them all draw conclusions. Paige and Phoebe immediately react taking seats on either side of the halfbreed. Paige rests her hand on his back rubbing soothing circles on it with her thumb and Phoebe rests a supportive hand on his shoulder.

Phoebe: Hey, hey. Shh… it's okay.  
>Chris: (Springing up to his feet and turning to face her) Okay? I just… oh God, and she's, she's… How in the hell is that okay?<p>

The usually outspoken group sits in silence but let every fiber of their being scream out in sympathy.

Chris: I may never be okay again but this… this _mission_ is more important. If… if I could save your son then none of this has to happen the second time around. None of it.  
>Piper: You've got our complete support.<br>Chris: (small voice) Thank you. Now if you don't mind I need to be alone.

Phoebe goes to protest, knowing first hand that there's no answers in the darkness. Solitude doesn't save and she knows it but before she gets a chance he shimmers leaving the advice to die on her lips. Cole, however, had other ideas.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Chris tried to end the meeting with the Charmed Ones in a period but he knew his father would be sure to use a question mark. The sound of shimmering behind him only confirms it. Chris abandons his search through the shopping bags for a pair of pajama pants and turns to the man with an annoyed expression.

Chris: (Dripping with sarcasm) Yes, Cole. When I said I wanted to be alone I meant alone with you.

Cole doesn't let that usual smirk take control of his features but remains surprisingly stoic. That expression meant business. Chris knew it… but that didn't mean he was ready for it.

Cole: How'd you do it?  
>Chris: (disbelievingly) What?<br>Cole: How'd you kill… Callie was it?  
>Chris: Her name was Charlie.<p>

His tone is as murderous as the glare in his eyes. Chris bridges the gap and grips his father by the collar of his solid white dress shirt. When he speaks again his voice is a low growl.

Chris: Listen up you son-of-a-bitch because I'm only going to tell you once... She played me, straight up played me like a fool. She went to stab me in the back, literally, and I turned to deflect it with my forearm. We battled a bit and she… she got a hand over my heart. She's half lumen demon so we both know how that could have ended and probably should have.  
>Cole: How did it end?<p>

Chris let a villainous grin slip onto his face with tears burning in his eyes. His hands switched from Cole's shirt to his head and uses pressurization. Cole cries out feeling like his head could crumble and finds himself actually breathing a sigh of relief when the halfbreed stops.

Chris: For someone who was suicidal a few weeks ago, you seem pretty happy to be alive, Cole Turner.  
>Cole: All you were going to be able to do was give me a really bad headache, Christopher Mitchell.<br>Chris: Invincible doesn't mean indestructible. Even you only have one life and I suggest you don't waste it interrogating me.

The sound of Phoebe's heels going click clack could be heard throughout the penthouse. Restlessness took a toll on the petite brunette and at around two in the morning she decided to do something about it. She was coming to see Chris, to make sure he was okay. She nears the couch peering over and expecting to see Chris's sleeping form. To her surprise she finds the couch inhabited by her sleeping ex-husband with a bottle of scotch beneath his arm. The back of her hand smacks his shoulder and his eyes shoot open, a fireball filling his hand as some primal means of self-defense.

Cole: Phoebe? What're you doing here? (dousing fireball)  
>Phoebe: Looking for Chris… Where is he?<p>

Cole wipes the sleep from his eyes before sitting up and scanning the room for signs of the halfbreed's return. Sighing, he goes to stand up and almost lets the bottle fall to the floor. At the last possible second he uses telekinesis to catch the bottle and bring it to his hand.

Cole: I don't know.  
>Phoebe: Well did you try looking for him or did you think he might be in the bottom of the bottle.<p>

Cole mockingly looks down through the neck of the bottle before setting it on the end table. One look at the beautiful brunette and he know exactly why he was going crazy. It was like seeing heaven every day, being given a tour, and not being able to stay within its gates. The thought made his scotch want to rise so he figures getting away is his best option. He wants to run but settles for walking past her towards his bedroom.

Phoebe: Where'd you think you're going?  
>Cole: Bed.<br>Phoebe: Going to sleep it off?  
>Cole: No, Phoebe, I'm going to my room to get as far away from you as possible without making it look like I'm trying to avoid you.<br>Phoebe: Avoid me?

Cole pinches the bridge of his nose between his index finger and thumb trying to gain a sense of composure but failing miserably. He's spent what feels like forever trying to show her that he loves her and he's sick and tired of it. He's sick and tired of all of it.

Cole: Yes Phoebe, avoid you! You're like a drug, an addiction that's eating away at my insides and poisoning my mind. Being so near to you but worlds apart is eating me alive! God, I wish I stayed vanquished… At least then I'd of died with you loving me to the bitter end. Because this; whatever the hell this is, is far worse than any other fate cooked up for me!

He spoke like a man possessed, eyes wide with anger and face red. She returns his anger, letting out a furious huff of air and bridging the gap between them and driving her bony finger into his chest.

Phoebe: What and you think this is easy for me? I loved you! I trusted you and you betrayed me, betrayed us, betrayed everything in your quest for power. Then it was either save the world or kill you. You put that decision in my hands and I _**HATE**_ you for that.  
>Cole: Take it back!<br>Phoebe: NO! You ruined my life and rose from the dead to do it again damn it!

Frenzied, lost in the heat of the moment, she goes to slap him across the face. The demon that'd been around for centuries knew that expression and move well enough to grab her wrist in the air. Suddenly, she's captured beneath his gazes intensity. He's the only one that could look at her like that, like he could see into her very soul and see only truth.

Trying to force herself out of an uncomfortable situation, Phoebe goes to shove him with her free arm only to have that caught too. Instinct drives the demon a few steps forward, driving her back against the wall behind her. She hits it with an astonished gasp. There's no use protesting what comes next. She knows she doesn't want to anyways.

When he leans down to kiss her firmly with fiery passion, she whimpers against his lips only to give in wholeheartedly seconds later. Clothes are quite literally torn from their bodies by hungry hands. Nothing's sweet or gentle about their movements or actions. It's the raw fiery intensity that is the thin line between love and hate and two people tired of distinguishing which side they fall on.

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	8. Chapter Seven

**Hey everyone!  
>First I'd like to thank my loyal reviewers: crlncyln, Jess Maximoff, and mclaughlin<br>I'd also like to thank those of you that added my stories to their favorites and those of you of you that subscribed to my alerts.  
>It means the world to me and definitely inspires to keep on working.<br>Enjoy and thank you for reading!**

When combustible elements react, they become an overpowering force. Ying and yang, fire and ice, pain and pleasure, heads and tails, Charlie and Chris: all testaments to this statement. As always, Chris Turner-Halliwell rose with the sun. Only this time was for the first time in a long time, he didn't feel completely and totally alone or half alive. In fact, he felt quite the opposite.

He lifts his head from one of the pillows he borrowed from the manor and turns his head to look at the breathtakingly beautiful brunette asleep by his side still quite amazed he hadn't dreamt her return. He could sit there the rest of his life watching her sleep and be perfectly content. Brunette locks cascade across the pillow and there's no trace of makeup on her angelic face.

In that moment, she takes him back to the days when the world seemed filled with any possibilities and he felt like he could fly. So many Charlie-Centric memories go rushing through his head that finding one in particular to focus on seems impossible. For him, Charlie's that girl- the ultimate girl next door that you've known your whole life and your parents used to joke about falling you falling in love with. Then one day it actually happened. He looked at her and didn't see the girl from yesterday.

He saw the girl he could spend forever with, the girl he never wants to give up. The transformation happens in an instant but lasts a lifetime… or at least it was supposed to be a lifetime. That is until you drive her into your cousin's arms, rescue her from the tyrant, only to lose her again two years later…

He digresses.

None of it matters anymore because she's here by his side and he'll die before he let _Lord Wyatt_ get within fifty feet of her. Suddenly he sees the beautiful brunette crack a sleepy little smile.

Charlie: Now who's the one staring?  
>Chris: I thought we decided on <em>gazing<em>.  
>Charlie: No, no gazing. Time for sleeping.<br>Chris: Time for sleeping? It's six in the morning- the start of a beautiful day.  
>Charlie: (mock seriousness) Wait, there's actually a six a.m.? My God, I thought it was a myth!<p>

She buries her face into his chest and he laughs wrapping his arms around her. Chris Halliwell lays with the girl he loves in his arms wondering if he's still dreaming. Whereas on the other side of San Francisco, Phoebe Halliwell wakes up only to question if she's caught in a horrible nightmare.

A single groan escapes the witch's lips as the morning sun casts its light into the master bedroom. In an attempt to eliminate the offending light, she pulls the sheet up over her head only to find something more offensive- the feeling of soft silk against her flesh.

Her sheets aren't silk; their cotton.

She feels someone shift on the bed beside her and then an arm sling over her waist. She gasps. These aren't her sheets because this isn't her bed! Reluctantly she peeks over the covers and takes in her ex-husband sleeping soundly beside her.

Phoebe: (mouthing) Oh my God.

The thought that maybe it wasn't so bad crosses their mind. Maybe they'd of fallen asleep waiting up for Chris. However she quickly finds the flaw. Last time she checked, you don't wait up for your halfbreed in the nude. Her hand carefully lifts his arm up off her and rolls out of the bed quick to grab the blanket at the foot of the bed and wrap herself in it.

How could she have slept with Cole?  
>God, she hadn't even drank anything last night!<p>

Feverishly she looks about the room searching for any of her clothing. Immediately, she finds her bra… well half of it anyways. Their night of fiery passion quickly forms into memories and flood her mind. She runs her fingers through her tangled mess of hair. When she catches sight of herself in the mirror, she realizes just how intense it really was. Finger shaped bruises on her hips, bruised lips, hickeys on her neck and chest: she was a mess.

It was all too much…  
>She has to get out of here.<p>

Instinct tells her to call out to Paige or Leo but she quickly stops herself. They can't know. Nobody can! She quickly moves out into the open floor planned area fully prepared to steal some of the halfbreed's clothes and doing the walk of shame all the way home. However, her plans get cut short when she runs into the halfbreed himself.

Chris: Phoebe? What're ya'…

Immediately his mind pieces together the events of the night and an expression of horrid disgust contorts his features. Not only did he catch his mother trying to escape a hook up with dear old dad but god, he notices the torn trail of clothing and gets a mental picture that no amount of therapy will ever erase.

__Chris: You didn't.  
>Phoebe: (dreadfully) I did.<br>Chris: But you and Cole weren't supposed to until-  
>Phoebe: Oh my God, you knew this was going to happen!<p>

So aggravated, the witch goes to shove the halfbreed almost losing her blanket. Quickly, the halfbreed shields his eyes and telekinetically holds it up. Emotionally scarred, Chris feels the bile in his throat raising the awkwardness as well. Quickly, he goes to bags and pulls out a blue button-down and tosses it to her. He turns his back to her while she changes and begins working on his defense.

Chris: Of course I knew. I'm from the future.  
>Phoebe: Why didn't you say anything!<br>Chris: I don't know. Hey, I'm Chris from the future… oh by the way you and Cole are going to screw sometime in the not too distant future didn't seem quite appropriate.  
>Phoebe: Whatever, just get me out of here!<br>Chris: As you wish.

****

After being shimmered home, Phoebe collapsed onto her bed, mindlessly staring out the window feeling number than numb. Truth was she was being pulled in so many directions that she couldn't even begin to decide how to feel so she opted for not feeling- a very un-Phoebe like move. It isn't until there's a knock at the door that Phoebe comes out of her reverie.

Phoebe: Ugh, Go away!

Ignoring her sister's request, the pregnant Piper Halliwell-Wyatt enters staying silent until her younger sister rolls over to look at the room's newest occupant. A numbed sigh escapes her lips and she rolls back over, content with staying in her reverie for the rest of the day… maybe eternity.

Piper: Oh, hey Phoebe. Yeah, I'm great but your nephew seems intent on using my kidneys as a punching bag. Thanks for asking.  
>Phoebe: Not now, Piper.<br>Piper: What's the matter, Pheebs? You feeling okay?  
>Phoebe: Far from it, actually.<br>Piper: Does it have anything to do with you not so eloquently slipping out of the house at two a.m. or the fact that is not your shirt… (something clicks) Oh God, Phoebe you didn't!

Phoebe quickly realizes how naïve the idea that she could get away with something this big. Not only was she horrible with secrets… but this was Piper- the sister that'd known her her entire life. She knew her faults, strengths, weaknesses, tells. She knew her. Feeling that disgust that was becoming all too familiar, the middle Halliwell responds.

Phoebe: I did.  
>Piper: Phoebe! He was just forced to choose between the love of his life or saving the world and you didn't even give him enough time to let the blood dry on his hands before hopping into bed with him!<p>

…Or maybe she didn't.

Phoebe rolls over to look at her older sister, the stunned expression on Piper's face borderlines comical. Phoebe almost wants to laugh if the accusation wasn't so heinous. Not knowing what to say, she simply responds with a dumbfounded 'what?'

Piper: Don't what me! You just admitted to sleeping with Future Boy!  
>Phoebe: What? No, I slept with… on second thought yeah I slept with Chris.<br>Piper: C'mon, Phoebe. Who could be worse than Future Boy? (Cole's name hits her mind.) Oh no… no, no, no, no, no!  
>Phoebe: Yes.<br>Piper: God, Phoebe. What were you thinking?

Good Question.

As it turns out Phoebe Halliwell wasn't thinking. Not in the least bit. She was sick and tired of always thinking and analyzing every move she made. Sleeping with Cole in a moment of weakness was hardly the end of the world… so why did it feel like it was. Tears spring into her eyes as she turns back towards the window, not wanting her big sister to see her cry.

Phoebe: I wasn't.

A look that screams sympathy takes over her features as she takes a seat at the edge of the bed. Giving herself a minute, the six months pregnant Piper repositions her self- her back and head rested against the backboard and close to Phoebe. She strokes her younger sister's hair until Phoebe turns over and rests her head on her big sister's shoulder.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Chris didn't return to the penthouse for another five hours and when he does he doesn't like what he sees. Cole's sitting at the kitchen island, blankly stirring the melting ice in his now empty glass of scotch looking dangerously defeated. He doesn't even notice the halfbreed's presence until an arm clad in a white Henley reach out and snatch his glass.

Cole: I'd put that back if I were you.  
>Chris: Whataya' gonna do, Cole?<p>

An enraged, irrational, and heavily intoxicated Cole Turner hurls a fireball in the halfbreed's direction. Chris shields himself at the last possible second. Chris growls before shimmering out and shimmering back in behind the older man and holding him in a full nelson.

The drunken demon sloppily shimmers behind the halfbreed ready to relinquish some pent-up aggression but the much soberer, much stealthier twenty-two year old initiates a leg sweep knocking the inebriated party flat on his back. Doing a tuck and roll, Chris moves up to the older man's throat and presses an athame to it.

Chris: You done?

With a nod pointing out his surrender, Chris returns his athame into his boot and made it to the upright position offering his hand to his father. The demon drunkenly accepts feeling quite ridiculous for attacking the younger man.

Cole: I'm sorry… I don't know what came over me.  
>Chris: (motioning over to the almost empty bottle of scotch.) I do. That brings out the inner demon in us all, Cole. Do yourself a favor. Sober up, shower up, then go talk to Phoebe.<p>

Chris knew his father after the death of his mother, he knew Cole without Phoebe. The man so fixated on revenge that it ended up eating away any good left within him. He also knows the odds of seeing that man have risen greatly now that he fucked up the timeline. He may have also erased himself.

****

Cole took the halfbreed's advice. After sleeping for a few hours, he woke up, showered, and, despite a vicious hangover, he went to go see Phoebe. He found her in her room, sprawled out on her bed with her Laptop on her stomach as she typed up her column. He takes a moment to watch her sitting with pursed lips and her glasses on. She looked adorable but as soon as she noticed his presence, the moment's gone.

Phoebe: Leave me alone, Cole.  
>Cole: You left and I figured we should… talk about what happened.<p>

She makes him nervous, schoolboy-going-to-ask-out-the-most-popular-girl-in-school nervous. His knees are weak, palms are sweaty as he wonders how she could still make him this nervous. Then the answer comes to mind… because she's Phoebe-freaking-Halliwell, the only person with enough of him to break him entirely. The feisty brunette sets her laptop off to the side before going jumping off the bed.

Phoebe: There's nothing to talk about, Cole. It was nothing but a one night stand.  
>Cole: Don't belittle what we had, Phoebe. I didn't force last night on you. Don't be pissed at me for wanting you, Phoebe… for needing you… for loving you.<p>

A heart steeled against the man before her noticeably warms. Her shoulders sag with fatigue. She's just couldn't do it anymore. She couldn't hate him anymore. Or at least she couldn't pretend it was all him.

Phoebe: I'm pissed at myself, not you. This-this isn't about you. It's about me and the way I am when it comes to… us. I'm mad at myself for relapsing when I try to get you out of my system. And, really, most of all, I'm pissed that I'm not over you… that I can't stop loving you after _everything _that's happened.

Caught up in her words, her admittance of still having feelings for him causes the demon to close the distance that separates them and rest his hands on her shoulders. There's a desperation in his eyes that leaks into his tone.

Cole: So don't. Don't hate me. Don't shut me out. Give me another chance. Give us another chance!

He was seconds away from falling to his knees and begging which was a shock in and of itself. Cole was too proud to beg, too proud to be that man but for her, he'd of done it. He'd of done anything. But that was always there. That was always a point in the vicious cycle that is their relationship and she didn't have the strength to go through it again. She just couldn't.

Phoebe: No, Cole! You don't get it. You're good with the romantic gestures and the words that make hearts melt. But you're never going to change, Cole. Don't you think I see it, the balling up of fists, rocking on your heels, always on edge. You're going to slip and diving into this would be as suicidal as diving into the shallow end.

Tears are shed from those brilliant brown eyes and his heart sinks down to his toes. He feels like he's falling a thousand feet per second and there's no saving him. Still he asks…

Cole: How can I prove to you I changed?  
>Phoebe: (choked up)Let me go.<br>Cole: (Desperate) Phoebe…  
>Phoebe: I'm sorry.<p>

When the last syllable leaves her lips she turns her back to him so he can't see the tears fall. His hand goes up and moves to reach out for her like it has a mind of its own but something in him stops it. He just couldn't do it. He couldn't go rushing into this when he'd lose her again. He just couldn't do it. But he couldn't just give up either. She's the only thing he's ever loved… thinks he ever will love.

So instead of just shimmering off, he makes a final statement.

Cole: I meant it, before… I'm not giving up on someday, Phoebe. Just say when.

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	9. Chapter Eight

**Hey Guys, just wanted to thank all of you that've been reading S2SU!  
>All of you that'd subscribed to alerts added to favorites or <strong>_**REVIEWED (hint hint ) **_

**Enjoy another chapter and let me know how you like it!**

Charlie: What exactly are your intentions, Mr. Halliwell?  
>Chris: That, Ms. Gracin, is for me to know and you to find out.<p>

He rests one hand down on the woman's waist while the other rises up between them to offer the blind fold. She cocks and eyebrow but her smile just grows. She can't help but smile when he's got that smirk on his face and a romantic gesture up his sleeve.

Chris: I'm asking for a bit of blind faith. What's it gonna be, Ms. Gracin?  
>Charlie: Give me it.<br>Chris: Ya' sure? I mean I could drop you in a volcano and you'd not know it 'til it was too late.  
>Charlie: Do it and I'll haunt your ass, Halliwell.<p>

They share a laugh, one of those laughs that actually reaches their eyes as she turns her around so he can blindfold her. Being careful not to tie her hair in with the blindfold, Chris secures it before shimmering her off to her surprise. Scanning around, he makes sure everything's in place and demon goo free before he pulls stands close behind her so that she can feel his warm breath on her neck.

Chris: Alright, take off the blindfold… and any other items of clothing you find no longer necessary.

He moves his hands to untie the delicate fabric from her eyes to reveal they're standing in a beachfront property. The 2562 Sq. Ft., three story, three bedroom, three and a half bathroom modern beach getaway belonged to an upper level demon that would one day join Wyatt's army and kill millions before Charlie vanquished her. Chris just made a change to the timeline, saving millions of lives and scoring him and Charlie a place to stay during their time in the past. As her emotions get marked as unreadable, Chris slips into a nervous babble.

Chris: I know it's not the cove but it's got indoor plumbing, fully furnished, basements converted into a gym, courtyard, art room, third floor roof terrace, hot tub, pool…we could still keep our no shoes, no shirt, no problem policy that-  
>Charlie: (laughing) Would you stop?<p>

She turns to face the handsome halfbreed with her blue eyes a tiny bit misty and one of those smiles so warm that it could melt the entire continent of Antarctica. Long, slender arms wrap around Chris and her fingers interlace in his hair.

Charlie: You had me at indoor plumbing.

His lips meet hers like a kiss seeking missile. When he's with her he completely forgets who he is, who he's not, who he's supposed to be. With her, he's just a guy in love with a girl. There's no work, loving her comes as natural to him as breathing. There's no weight on his chest, she helps bear the load. But most importantly, there's no lies, which is more than he could say for his life outside of her.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Shimmering into the manor was shimmering into a war zone. Literally. Energy balls whiz past him as he deflects some with the shield he instantly throws up in defense before taking refuge behind the couch with his aunts.

Chris: How're you ladies doing today?  
>Phoebe: Just peachy!<br>Chris: So what's the plan?

Rapidly, his heart rate rises and blood pounds in his ears. A threat walks among the people he pledges to protect. Chris knows what he has to do and if he wasn't already willing to do it those unified front smiles that show they're on the same page and his ass was going to be decoy anyways. Chris nods in determination as he shimmers behind the small platoon of demons forcing energy balls into their backs. Immediately they're nothing more than piles of ash on the floor.

As attentions drawn to him and fireballs are hurled at him, his battle experience causes the situation to feel slowed. He watches the fireballs coming, spiraling through the air and preparing to burn his flesh. He has other plans. He forms shields the circumference of his forearms and deflects the fireballs back, moving with a speed and agility unparalleled on the battlefield.

Lower level demons dusted by their own fireballs disappear as well as the ones being blasted by Piper from behind. Then there was one. The man with oddly fiery red hair that stuck out every which way and coal black eyes stood between the two with a devious smirk on his face; one that Chris quickly realizes as a man with a plan smirk. He extends his arms outward and Chris's eyes lock onto the metallic bracelet on the demon's wrist peeking out beneath his jacket sleeve.

Chris: Shit! Piper, no!

But it was too late. Piper's hands make the gesture that'd make any demon tremble but the demon doesn't flinch. In fact he throws out his hands in her direction, absorbs the shot and expels it at Piper. At the last possible second, Chris shimmers before her blocking the shot with his shield. At first glance, the shot did nothing more than blow up an ugly lamp. The blood soaking through the sleeve of Chris's shirt speaks otherwise.

Phoebe: Oh my God, Chris!

Her words don't faze the warrior with a serious amount of adrenaline surging through his veins. He charges the conductor demon growling murderously and tackles him with the sheer force and intensity of a linebacker. They hit the ground hard, the demon's head slamming into the wood flooring of the attic with knockout worthy force. As a precautionary measure he quickly forces himself up into a squatting position and drives his fist into the demon's face- knockout punch.

He looks up at the Charmed Ones, his chest still heaving erratically. What he's about to do next will undoubtedly complicate the relationship of the halfbreed and his family. For a moment he questions orbing off with the demon, using questionable methods of interrogation, and bleeding him dry but knows that the demons from the future, in Wyatt's army, and knows who he is. It has too be done. With an underlining sadness Chis speaks.

Chris: I'm sorry.

Then he shimmers out ready to enable his plan.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Once upon a time, Chris Halliwell let the darkness always looming within his very soul free and killed every demon he came into contact with, showing little to no remorse. Sometimes he slips back into that darkness, allowing it to swallow him whole and corrupt his soul. Even good men do bad things if they think there's a good intention behind it.

Now's one of those times.

A pit forms in the bottom of his stomach as he digs another deep jagged cut into the Conductor Demon's human like flesh. The demon's hung upside down by the ankles. Thick, shimmer proof shackles hang him by the ankles, his hands tied behind his back, and suspended a few feet off the ground. A series of lacerations, varying in size and depth go from his hips up to his neck. The demon cries out only to laugh moments later. It was one of those bone chilling laughs that make you positive they're psychotic.

Chris: I'm glad you find this amusing.  
>Conductor Demon: Oh, you have no idea how amusing I find you, Christopher. Your pain, anguish… your turmoil; it's just so <em>delicious<em>.

Chris stiffens visibly as the demon puts emphasis on the last word. The satisfaction gained from his torment is downright treacherous. He knows of the Conductor Demons and their abilities to not only absorb your magical attacks and throw them back at you ten times stronger but to contract memories and thoughts that run through your head. They can take any emotion and make it stronger, more intense. And he was. God help him, he was.

Chris felt a tear stream down his face but his expression remains stoic.

Chris: I'll ask you again… what's your primary objective?  
>Conductor Demon: (Mock childish tone) That's for me to know and you to never find out.<p>

Rage bubbles beneath his flesh forcing him to drive the athame deep into his tormentor's leg. The demon cries out as the deep black liquid that has a motor oil appearance. The stench of the blood hits his nostrils and his stomach churns in disgust. He hates this darkness, he hates having to have the weight of the world on his shoulders, he hates everything. But still that daunting since of obligation drives him.

Chris: Primary objective?  
>C.D.: You know you're more like him than you'd care to admit. That delectable darkness is just begging to be unleashed. You're sick and tired of it, of people dying for you, because of you, by you. You want to not feel, not care, not have to deal with the constant battle. The difference is Lord Wyatt's not such a little bitch about it.<p>

The demon's compare-and-contrast statement sends the otherwise stoic halfbreed diving off the cliff of calm and rational into a frenzied attack. He releases the chain causing the demon to crash into the sandy ground of the Cove head first. Anger deeper than the deepest depths of the ocean takes over him as he mounts his opponent and begins letting his fist fly forward ferociously and furiously.

That's how the Charmed Ones find him just minutes later, wailing away on the almost humanoid demon. It was unconscious, maybe even dying or dead but it doesn't stop him. He punches and punches with a malevolent nature that could only be described as demonic. Rationality doesn't compel the teen to cease in his assault. He keeps going and growling out loud as incoherent mumbling turns into a strengthened yell.

Chris: I'm not him. I'm not him. I'm not him! I'M NOT HIM!

For a moment his cries change. The torturous attack, did something neither saw coming. A blow to the head caused the conductor's off switch to short circuit. Everything- every emotion, every worry, every fear exacerbated.

Chris: You don't know me! You don't know me! You don't fucking know me.

(other side of the cove)  
>Piper: What'n the world?<br>Paige: Well that answers the question of whether or not they know each other.  
>Phoebe: Guys we should really do something.<br>Paige: All you, Pheebs.

Phoebe Halliwell felt a flash of fear as she moved over towards the young halfbreed but it's quickly replaced by this underlining protectiveness she's felt over him for weeks now. As his arm pulls back ready to swing again, her hands catch his and pull him off the demon and onto his feet. Their eyes lock, brown on blue , and suddenly Chris doesn't know what to do.

He stands frozen, staring at the woman he'd one day call mom, embarrassed and shaken but also taken by the calmness only a mother can provide. It's almost like he's seven years old again staring down at a demon's body of his first vanquish, his mom having to draw his attention away from the carcass, pleading with her eyes. Then she whispers words of comfort.

Phoebe: Chris…it's okay.

His eyes go down to the demon that's still taking his emotions and intensifying them tenfold. From his boot, he telekinetically brings the athame from his bootstrap to his hand. For a minute she wants to question his intentions, mistaking that murderous look he's got on his face as one directed towards her. She even flinches as he kneels down and drives the knife through the demon's heart in one decisive movement. Standing up the moment the body's turned to ash, he looks to Phoebe.

Chris: No… now it's okay.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

After going A.W.O.L for a while Chris shimmers into the manor while the family is at P3. It is then that it's all too clear to him why he chose to come there alone. It's for the sake of his childhood, hoping to rediscover something in those old walls, a doorway, a photograph, a piece of furniture, anything to induce some sort of joy or goodness by which he might recognize himself again. It's easy to get lost along the way.

And not so easy to find your way back.

He explores the house searching for that one thing that'll invoke a memory from one of the house that'd built him. It wasn't until he gets downstairs into the Conservatory until he feels at home. It was almost as if entering the kitchen was like stepping up to fourteen years into the future.

At the table he and Wyatt would do their homework and when he'd have a bad day, he'd lie on the wicker couch and toss his basketball up and down. It could be anything: school, girls, family, even life in general. Whatever it was he'd sulk right there 'til his mom came home to give him advice. He'd stand in the doorway practically seeing himself lying on the chair. He's so focused that he didn't hear them come home.

Paige: (punching the air) Hey there, Slugger.  
>Phoebe: (scolding) Paige!<br>Chris: No, it's okay. I deserve it.

Chris turns to Paige and Phoebe with a bit of nostalgia still present in his eyes. To see them standing there watching him like he's a loose cannon, is like an ice pick through the heart but he can't let them see. He can't let them see anything other than the guy who's going to save the twice-blessed. Idle hands kiss denim as they slip into his jean pockets.

Chris: About earlier, my actions were _questionable_ and highly inappropriate. I could try to defend myself and say it was an interrogation, or he intensified my emotions, or blame it on the fact that demon was in a future army and needed to be killed anyway but in the end I'm accountable for my own actions. So I guess what this long winded rambling statement is supposed to mean … well I'm sorry.  
>Phoebe: Apology accepted.<br>Paige: As long as you promise to not go all Psycho Sid again.

Good ole' Aunt Paige, thinks the halfbreed. She's always been the mood lightener for him and capable of putting a smile on his face even when his sky is turning gray. He lets a slight snicker out before agreeing to her terms and saying goodnight with one of his mother's hugs and even one from Paige unaware they're being watched.

Eyes that'd be the most magnificent shade of mocha, if they weren't transformed to a bothersome black, focus in on the halfbreed with the hunger of a famished lion stalking his prey. Nothing would satisfy him more than to gruesomely gut him but his orders are clear, handed to him by _Lord Wyatt_ himself. His monotone voice cuts through the air before he disappears through a time portal.

Mystery Man: In due time, Christopher. In due time.


	10. Chapter Nine

**For those of you that've checked out my profile where I put pictures of the characters, I'd like you to note that I changed out Blake Lively for Sophia Bush as Charlie. Sorry for the inconvenience.  
>Also Chris and Charlie are 22. Sorry for accidental uses of word teen. "I'm also in the process of writing a novel where the protagonist is 18… tends to get a bit confusing <strong>

**ENJOY! I don't own Charmed. **

Cole Turner was having one of those days where just getting out of bed seems to be the world's most wretched task. For what feels like eternity he lays there flat on his back and eyes glued to the side of the bed she'd occupied just thirty-six hours ago. He remembers every look upon her face, the way she smiles, the way she tastes. She is his world, and she wanted him to let it go. He's trying so hard to do what she asks but what's a man without his world?

His self-loathing sulking is silenced by the turning of a knob. Not wanting to be seen like this- mid sulk and teary-eyed he closes them and feigned sleep. The steady rhythm of his chest rising and falling, soft and smooth breaths inhaled and exhaled.

It was quite convincing but the son knows the acts of the father far better than he'd care to admit. He telekinetically brings the pillow that'd fallen off the bed up and into his hands allowing that signature smirk that'd defined him in the eyes of many to creep onto his face.

With a little bit of heat behind it, the halfbreed hurls the pillow at his father; allowing it to roll off his fingers with a gleam of mischief taking residence in his eyes that only grows when he sees it make contact and hears a displeasured groan leave the hung-over hurting mess's mouth.

Chris: Get up. Get dressed. Let's go.  
>Cole: Go where?<br>Chris: Out.

Cole leers at Chris, not willing to blindly follow him. The demon slaying savvy halfbreed had advised him to go to Phoebe, to get his heart broken and the last that he'd heard of him Chris had mercilessly tortured a demon only to slay him before the Charmed One's could get the answers. Something was hidden beneath the surface and he's not sure whether or not to trust it.

Cole: Enough with the cryptic crap.  
>Chris: I'll stop the cryptic crap as soon as you stop feeling sorry for yourself.<br>Cole: (sarcastically) Oh well, touché then.

Cole rolls over to lie on his stomach and hide his face in the pillow to show an end of their conversation. Of course, the demon doesn't know that Chris's got the stubbornness of both a Turner and a Halliwell combined in his genetic code. In a feverish fashion his hand shakes causing the bed to mimic the movement.

Cole: Don't make me vanquish you!

The warning tone in his father's words sends Chris to the days when his father wasn't so fatherly… to the days when his father was nothing more than a desolate wasteland of misery and despair. He would die before he let his dad that 90degree turn into a perpetual downfall. He'd die.

Chris: Go ahead vanquish me… as long you're standing up when you do it.

Again, not finding the motivation to step any further into his dad's room, Chris relies on his telekinesis to open the closet and send a pair of jeans and a long sleeve shirt his father's way. His eyes narrow in a don't-fuck-with-me kind of way before he puts his arms behind his back and sticks with the authoritative tone.

Chris: Get dressed. I'll get the Bloody Mary's started.  
>Cole: (smirking) So you <em>do<em> know me in the future.

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Cole: Eight ball corner pocket.

Cole lines up his shot, shoots, and makes it with ease. Looking at the four balls Chris still had on the table, the demon can't help but laugh. Chris's idea to cheer him up was a pool hall, cigar, and a pitcher of beer. Chris leans against his pool stick. Letting Cole win was painful, excruciatingly so but it was in the name of cheering him up, so he'd sit back and take it.

Cole: I believe that's game four I won.  
>Chris: What can I say, it's been six years since I've been in the general vicinity of a pool table let alone played.<br>Cole: Why's that?  
>Chris: What part of evil future don't you people get?<br>Cole: How evil?  
>Chris: Future consequences.<p>

After the words, the cogs in his head slowly turn. Every time the future or anything about the kid came up his answers were pure and simple. FUTURE CONSEQUENCES. If Cole Turner could murder a set of words, he wouldn't hesitate doing in future consequences the first chance he got. So he got an idea that only a demonic lawyer could do.

Cole: Are you a betting man, Mitchell?

Chris's shoulders tighten when his father referred to him as a man with another name and because he knew exactly how this man thinks. This wasn't going to be a bet of money. He'd have to bring his A game but instead he simply answers playing dumb.

Chris: Name your price, Turner.  
>Cole: Each ball in a question, no future consequences. Full honesty.<p>

It takes Chris a few moments to respond wondering how he could be hesitantly excited. What kid wouldn't want this opportunity to find out the inner workings of his father, his role model's eyes? Chris takes the hand he's dealt, clearing his throat and agreeing to battle further.

Chris: Rack 'em, Turner. I'll break.

Immediately Chris sinks in both the four and the one balls. A smirk grows on his face as Cole's jaw tightens. It wasn't going to be as easy as he thought. Questions spiral around in his head and it takes him a moment to ask.

Chris: How was it being the source?  
>Cole: (shrugs his shoulders) Overpowering, all consuming. It was something I wanted for the better part of my demonic time. But it came at a price.<br>Chris: Was that price worth it?  
>Cole: Losing our heir, losing Phoebe, losing that faith she had in me… no. Not at all.<p>

The last part of the statement went in one ear and out the other. Heir… as in a baby before him? His poker face fractures leaving a stunned wide eyed and mouth agape shock. He almost drops his pool stick but finds himself holding tighter after realizing it's his lifeline into another question. Gaining his composure he lines up for the easy shot and knocks the seven into the corner pocket.

Chris: What happened to it?

_It._ That's what it was in his eyes. It's what it has to be. To think of there being an actual kid, actual being for that matter causes a pit to form in his stomach. Cole's lips tighten as if an automatic reaction not to talk about it. But he did agree to the rules and there was a question he wanted answered… a question that'd decide what'll happen next.

Cole: The Seer happened. She tried to kill the sisters, they used a spell to unlock the baby's powers and the baby couldn't handle the might of his own powers.  
>Chris: M'sorry.<br>Cole: Yeah.

So many thoughts of what'd happened to his sibling sends his game into a tailspin. He lines up for an easy shot but misses. Cole however sinks in the ten ball for a corner to corner shot. The halfbreed bites his lip fearful of what'd happen at the results of the answer to his father's next question.

Cole: Do Phoebe and I get back together?

He knew it was coming and had a cryptic response prepared in his head but looking at Cole and seeing the desperation in his eyes, he just couldn't bring himself to do that. He reaches over to their table pulls his beer from the table and downs the glass in the hopes of gaining some liquid courage.

Chris: That depends on your definition of together. You sleep together after Piper's baby is born. Then you and Phoebe just remain friends… at least on the surface but those feelings you both harbor for each other doesn't fade. It never fades… but I think my being here shifted the timeline… you two slept together two months too early. Who knows… that could have changed everything.

The dread in his voice is missed by Cole. The words showing there was still hope seemed to take precedence. She never stopped loving him. He takes the pool stick in his hand and tosses it onto the table surprising the halfbreed.

Chris: We still have over half the table.  
>Cole: I found out all I needed to know. Let's go vanquish some demons.<p>

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

Chris Halliwell watched his father with traces of concern as they planned their assault on a clan that's known for their capturing, tormenting and trade of magical youth. He knew his father was capable of great good and selflessness. He also knows that everything's cloudy when it comes to all things Phoebe Halliwell. The man's motives for wanting to join this endeavor are in question.

Is it to impress Phoebe or out of the goodness of his heart.

Chris fingers flip the delicate pages of the text book in front of him but never able to concentrate. He watches Cole shinning his sword knowing the only way to kill these demons is decapitation. The glimmer in his eyes is of excitement, that thirst for the kill that lies within them all rising to the surface.

Chris: Maybe I should do this one solo.  
>Cole: You dragged me out of bed, kid. You're stuck with me.<br>Chris: (mutters) Won't make that mistake again.  
>Cole: What was that?<br>Chris: I said toss me a sword.  
>Cole: That's what I thought you said.<p>

****

His hand moves across the blade from head to hilt until igniting it in a fiery blaze before it joins his other hand on the hilt. As the last of demons swarm the two warriors, Chris couldn't help but let nostalgia flood his mind fighting side by side with his old man.

Swinging his sword with an expertise unmatched by the oncoming demon, Chris raises his shield to match the strike of one and swipes diagonally taking off another's head. His eyes meet Cole's as another demon carcass crashed onto the floor of the cave. Matching smirks adorn their faces as the friendly competition of who could slaughter the most of the remaining seven demons begins.

Two demons charge mere seconds apart. The halfbreed plunges his sword into one's throat and rotates his position one hundred and eighty degrees and adds another to his kabob. He presses his boot to the dying demon's chest and pulls the still blazing sword and does a clean swipe finishing the job. Adrenaline courses through his veins and blood pounds in his ears drowning out the cries of battle.

Chris: Two down-  
>Cole: None to go.<p>

Chris turns to see his father leaning up against the cave wall with five headless corpses lying at his feet. Chris begins to question how but sees the burns on their chests that were obviously energyball induced. A frown takes precedence over the shock.

Chris: Cheater. This was a battle of swordsmanship.  
>Cole: (Shrugging his shoulders) There're no definitive boundaries in battle... just you taking down the target by any means necessary. Never forget that.<p>

Chris dips his sword in a pond within the cave, nodding at the man's advice. He captures it, taking it in, and doing everything but thinking the thought that's present on his mind every minute he's with him- that if he fails he'll go to a world where he has to move on without him.

Just before he can, a piece of his world gets shimmered in by the hand of a Darth Maul looking demon. Its smile was a face splitting one revealing his shark like teeth and Chris feels as if he's the fourteen year old he was last time he faced that demon. Just as quickly it occurs to him he's not. He's stronger, faster, smarter… he's leader of the Resistance damn it!

He charges the demon, his blade drawn and battle ready. But the demon didn't come to battle. He lifts the slumping, dying teenager upright by the collar and Chris gets a good look at the face of his younger cousin. Henry Jr.'s fate lying in the balance changes the playing field drastically and Chris drops the sword from his hands.

Chris: Take my powers, take me back to the future if you must… just please let him go.  
>Demon: I'm not here to take anything Christopher. I'm here to give you a gift.<p>

The demon throws the teenager across the room like he was the weight of a softball and Chris throws out his hand to telekinetically cradle his younger cousin. As he focuses on bringing the younger boy to him, he turns his back on the demon. Blood red hands reach out and fire off energy balls in rapid succession. Thankfully the battle hardened demonic dad projects his shield onto Chris effectively scaring the demon away.

Chris pulls Henry close and cradles him there with one arm while the other brought a hand up to check his neck for a pulse. His heart is breaking as he feels its weakness and catalogs his injuries. Grimacing he takes into account the dislocated shoulders obviously from being shackled above his head and being set like that for some time, the series of burns on his arms and torso from being tortured with something similar to a cattle prod, and stab wound in his side from Excalibur. He didn't even begin to search for broken bones before he realizes they're not in a time where whitelighters are as rare as seeing Halley's Comet.

With tears in his eyes he looks up to Cole and wordlessly tells the man to follow him to the manor and as soon as he touches down in the attic, the halfbreed bellows just as loud as his voice could carry without cracking.

Chris: Leo! Leo! God damn it, where the fuck are you?  
>Piper: Chris, what's—<p>

The words die on her lips the moment she sees their usually stoic halfbreed shedding silent tears holding a younger man to his chest. Her sisters join her just past the room's threshold and they all find themselves calling for Leo. Chris Halliwell stares at the ceiling with two fingers pressed against his cousin's neck feeling as pulses are weaker and farther apart with each passing moment. It is then that he decides to risk everything he's gained in the past to save the boy that might as well be his little brother.

Chris: Charlie!

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

**Pretty big cliff hanger, I know… please don't kill me.  
>Also don't forget to review.<br>Tell me what you think should happen!**

**Should Gideon be the villain or should I create one?  
>Should there be one of those sequences where the charmed ones invade Chris's memories? (with my own special twist of course)<br>Tell me what you think!**


	11. Chapter Ten

**Jade: To find out who Chris is this early in the story would kind of ruin the whole point of a revelation fic. But one character will find out sooner than the others if it goes as planned. Thanks for Reviewing!**

**SYL: Thank you . You'll just have to read this chapter to find out what'll happen to Henry Junior. (sorry about the cliffhanger).**

**Jess Maximoff: Thanks for yet another review that made me smile and I definitely will have them invade him memories soon!**

**Now for another exciting chapter of S2SU.**

* * *

><p>He can tell by the way they're staring… or more accurately glaring that he'd just earned a place on their shit lists and may have possibly just signed his own death orders but he doesn't care. He couldn't let Junior die and would rather swap places with him any day at death's door. He calls out her name one more time, an underlined panic in his voice that screamed urgency present. That's how she knew it was bad. Charlie Gracin orbs into the manor abandoning her earlier hesitance.<p>

Charlie: Chris, what is—

The rest of her question dies on her lips at the sight of the dying witchlighter in Chris's arms. At the age of five Charlie moved in next door to the Halliwells changing both Chris's life and hers and when she was twelve her life changed again as the demon that'd been Charlie's father began to show his true nature turning abusive and Charlie and Chris vanquished him. After that day Charlie Chase took her mother's last name of Gracin and became the foster child of Henry Mitchell and Paige Mathews.

Charlie: Oh God, Junior.

Tears form in her eyes as she scrambles over to her fallen brother and fiancé. Chris immediately picks up on the brunette's panic and forces himself to gain the composure of a leader. He raises a trembling hand to her shoulder and wills her to look at him.

Chris: Charlie! You have to heal him.  
>Charlie: What? I-I don't I've only done it once. I mean—<br>Chris:Loves the trigger and you're the most loving and alive person I've ever known. You've got this.

His eyes will her to believe his words to see him and Henry Junior like they're the only two people in the room. She extends her hands above the lethal blow Excalibur dealt and concentrates on how much she loves her knucklehead of a brother. Suddenly that familiar golden glow of warmth and life appears between the two of them.

Chris: Keep going babe, you're doing great.

He watches the wound close smiling because he knows he'd kept the promise he made to Paige to keep her little boy safe… even if it meant betraying the Paige and sisters of the present. He didn't even care what'd come next because—

The halfbreed doesn't get to finish his musing before he feels the sharp pain of an athame piercing the flesh between his fourth and fifth ribs. A pained gasp echoes throughout the room as all eyes move to the once unconscious witchlighter. Magnificent mocha eyes gleam as they stare into the halfbreed's icy blue eyes screaming betrayal. The brown eyes glaze over black as he begins to laugh. His hand reaches out telekinetically shoving all occupants of the room other than Chris into the nearest walls.

Junior: His lordship sends his regards.

* * *

><p>Cole's the first to regain consciousness from his forceful collision with the wall moments later. He raises his head to see the halfbreed down on all fours with the athame still deeply placed between his ribs to where only the hilt showed. For a moment the demon contemplates faking unconsciousness and let somebody else deal with the halfbreed or even just leaving him for dead but decides to let his that nagging twinge of humanity overrule his thoughts.<p>

He scans the room in search of the witchlighter only to find he'd already orbed out. Going over to the halfbreed he found himself walking at a slower pace. If he lied to them about Charlie's death what else was he lying about… Wyatt? Evil Future? Him and Phoebe being together? He couldn't trust him. Arriving at the boy's side he just stands there a moment locking eyes with him. Chris hisses in pain another time and the demon decides to help him onto his back. He then proceeds to go over to the demonlighter and nudge her with his foot. Slowly she forces her eyes open to look up at him almost thinking she's back in 2016.

Cole: Charlie was it? Your boy's not looking so hot.

Immediately any grogginess fades as she forces herself up and over to Chris and meets his gaze. Both are tearful knowing that Wyatt had gotten to Junior.

Chris: T-take out 'thame.

Her eyes move to the hilt of the blade and her hand hesitantly goes over the athame.

Charlie: On the count of three. One, two—

At three she hesitated not quite ready to cause Chris anymore pain than he'd already sustained but the athame was removed beneath her hand. Immediately her attention snaps back to Cole who can't stop smirking. His hands go up in a so-sue-me gesture and her glare deepens.

Cole: What? You hesitated.

She's quick to heal him. The second Chris can get the air back into his lungs he takes the demonlighter's hand and shimmers out knowing that the betrayal of one family member is all he can take for the day.

* * *

><p>Chris stares blankly at his fiancé as he follows her from room to room like a shadow. He leans in the doorway and watches as she takes off the white t-shirt she was wearing that'd been smeared with blood and fishes out her long sleeved underarmor from the closet. She continues going through the motions of preparing to go after Henry Junior with the full intention of saving him the same way Chris did. Once ready she turns to the halfbreed, brow furrowing as she realizes he's not done anything to prepare which is a very anti-Chris move.<p>

Charlie: What're you waiting for? Get ready, Halliwell. We have an innocent to save.  
>Chris: I-I can't.<br>Charlie: Whataya' mean you can't.?  
>Chris: I mean I can't!<p>

And he couldn't. Unlike Charlie, Chris knew what having Henry Junior in Wyatt's command meant. That for Wyatt to have gotten to Junior he must have torn his way through the entire Resistance. Hundreds… thousands even were slaughtered because without the Ying to Wyatt's Yang there was no balance in the world. The scales tipped to the side of evil and evil crushed good. He can't force himself to fight because he's already lost.

Chris: Damn it, Charlie! They're all dead. Men. Women. Children. They're all dead because I wasn't there to save them… because I put family first! Because I thought family was everything! God, I was such a fool!

Halliwells never turned their back on family. Piper, Paige. Phoebe. All Halliwells preached about the significance of family about how it comes first. Chris believed it heart and soul but with those being ripped out by said people; he doesn't have it left in him.

A heart-in-your-throat misery sneaks up on both of them and if he didn't know better he'd say he heard her heart break. Family loyalty was such a part of the Chris she knew that without it, it's as if he's becoming a little more unrecognizable and knowing that he's giving up makes him a stranger. He may have given up but she hasn't. She spits out the next words like venom before stomping past him.

Charlie: Let me know when my Chris is back because this version you… I don't want any part of.

* * *

><p>He feels like his heart throbs in his throat like it got wedged up there and wouldn't find its way back down until the situation was resolved. But suddenly, for the first time in his life, Chris feels a defeat that he can't bounce back from. He feels as if each soul taken rest squarely on his shoulders forcing him to stay grounded instead of soaring to the heights necessary.<p>

Hours later, he returns to his and Charlie's home trying not to remember the look of disappointment on her face the last time he saw her, like it wasn't already burned into his memory. He pushes the door open quietly to find her curled up on her side of the bed facing away from him.

He peels off his jeans, intoxication causing him to slightly stumble during his attempt. From the dresser he pulls a pair of blue plaid pajama pants and slips them on before removing his still bloody long sleeve tee. Then, careful not to be an annoyance, he crawls into bed beside her sure to stay on his side. Judging by her breathing she wasn't asleep and despite an undeniable urge, he doesn't reach out to touch her. He just stares longingly.

Charlie: He's gone off grid.

Her sudden soft voice takes Chris off guard but his body reacts on autopilot. His hand moves to her shoulder, and thumb moves gently in soothing circles.

Chris: M'sorry, Pretty Girl.

She rolls over and tucks her head beneath his chin and the open arms encompass her body.

Charlie: Family's not everything, it's the only thing. Ya' know who told me that? You did.  
>Chris: I know I did. But I also told you there's two families, the one you're born with and the one you choose. They chose me, Char. The resistance was the family that chose me, to lead, to guide, to fight. And I chose my other family, traveling back when I should have—<p>

Knowing where the sentence was going Charlie rolls away from him positioning herself the closest to the edge of the bed she could without actually falling off. She doesn't want him to say it, to him voice that he thinks killing Wyatt was an option would be devastating. She remembers the days when their world was a block wide and the Halliwells were the three musketeers. Thinking back to those boys, the idea of them being pitted against each other like this is a travesty.

Chris: All I'm saying is who are we to say one life is more important than the multitude.

He sits up on his elbow rolling to his side and plants a soft kiss on her shoulder before crawling out of the bed and taking his pillow with him. When it came to Charlie he always felt almost empathic and right now that sense was telling him there was no making her understand tonight… or maybe ever; he knows that part of her that was the little girl with a crush on big, strong, good Wyatt Halliwell wasn't ever going to let her. As he goes to the bedroom door, he hears her turn over and look his direction.

Charlie: I hate this.  
>Chris: I know. Goodnight Pretty Girl.<p>

**Review Please!**


	12. Chapter Eleven

**Hey guys. Sorry it took longer to update than usual.  
>Writer's block is a bitch.<br>Thanks to those who've reviewed.  
>Please continue to do so. Means so much to me<br>Well… enjoy.**

At the easel he stands making soft elongated brush strokes against the canvas. The futuristic piece of technology plugged into a set of speakers moans from its stand at the opposite end of the room. The song starts out like someone breathing, rising and falling in a magnificent melody before dropping down into a warm rush of chromatic scales.

Lead Singer: "She's a pretty girl with long brown hair,  
>And I see her face everywhere.<br>People around always stop and stare.  
>Damn, that girl so unaware,<br>that she fills my heart with such despair."

Then in an almost unexpected twist, it swells into the most anguished melody that his despair became yours. Chris's eyes leave the canvas and move towards the sound and the feeling he was being transported back in time surges through him. It's like hearing a voice long gone but never forgotten. The Wyatt on that song, singing his words, is the Wyatt he's sworn to protect. The cousin that'd put his voice to his words, the partner in crime he'd had since he was born.

The music continues to play as Chris gets down to the detailed work eyeing the piece as he meticulously moves his brush along the canvas. He hears the sound of orbs and sapphire eyes shoot up to meet her baby blues. In the light of day he realized that none of it was Wyatt's fault. Turning evil wasn't a choice. It was an affliction that needed cured. But when he went to tell her that, he found their bedroom empty.

Chris: Hey, I've been thinking that you're onto something. Future Wyatt keeps sending the people I love after me to symbolically tell me that everyone'll turn their back on me but him. I don't want to let him win. I don't want to turn on either of you or vice versa. I guess what I'm trying to say is, let's go get our boy.

As he spoke the halfbreed casts aside the brush and moves in the direction of the blue-eyed brunette. He doesn't know what to expect, but knows what he wants. He wants to bridge the gap between him and her that'd been building to almost unbearable proportions. Once inches away from her and post declaration the halfbreed feels like the anxious kid leaning in for his very first kiss he was a decade before. Then two unsuspected words change everything and throw another curveball into his plans.

Charlie: Catch me.

Instantaneously Chris's hands go out, knowing to do as he's told when it's said in that breathless tone. She falls forward into his arms and eyes immediately take in the sight of a scorch mark on her back. The unresponsive demonlighter refuses to wake up at his touch. He hates it. His strong arms scoop her up and he takes a deep breath, visibly steeling himself for the events to come.

* * *

><p>Paige: Crystals!<p>

A crystal cage forms around the halfbreed but now is not a time for games. Of all the death and destruction that surrounds him, hers would be the worse. Losing the one person that makes the bad seem not so bad would make his fight that much harder. He holds her in his arms like a man would a bride but this isn't a joyous occasion and the sorrowful expression on his face spoke it clearly.

He surveys the surrounding area, looking intently for the man he needs to help save her. Leo stands protectively close to Piper and Chris feels sick. It's not every day you're mistreated by your family. Not like this. He wants to scream that he's not a threat that he's family but the words won't come out. His instincts inhibit it. They could do whatever they wanted to him just as long as he helps her.

Chris: She's hurt… and unless you do something she'll die.

Leo eyes Chris like he'd lost his mind, like he must have some nerve showing up to see the family that he'd lied to and deceived. Chris's eyes roam elsewhere in search of his mother. Certainly she'd help him. She couldn't hold him at fault for faking Charlie's death… where did she think he learned it? The way she looks at him proves contradiction to his thoughts, the sting of betrayal burning brightly in her eyes.

Chris: Hate me all you want. Crucify me even but Charlie… she's the innocent in all this. She got turned saving my life and hurt trying to save her brother.

Carefully Chris moves down to the kneeling position and lays his love on the floor then steps back and puts his hands up like a fugitive surrendering. He hates it. But it works. He watches Paige hesitantly kick a crystal out of place and Leo move over to the brunette on the floor. Everything about the situation is reluctant… even the golden glow enabling the healing process.

Chris: Why's it taking so long?  
>Leo: Something's fighting me.<p>

Chris stands his ground, the portrait of strength and stoicism. As a leader that fought for the freedom of mankind, the master and commander of the Resistance, it's only fitting… Right? Wrong, it was just a lesson that he learned a little too well. Never let them see you sweat. Inside, his stomach churns and he wants to fall to his knees sobbing until he couldn't breathe.

Chris: Just keep trying.

The blonde gasps inhaling a breath of fresh oxygen and beautiful Carolina blue eyes snap open. As Leo backs up, the halfbreed races forward falling to his knees and enveloping her in an embrace. He never wants to come that close to losing her again.

Chris: Don't ever scare me like that again.  
>Charlie: Hey, look at me.<p>

Reluctantly he loosens his embrace enough to look into the brunette's eyes. Her hands move to his face holding it there and she smiles that reassuring smile that steals his soul every time.

Charlie: Baby, I'm okay. I promise.  
>Chris: What happened?<br>Charlie: Let's talk about it when we're alone.

The middle Halliwell watches the couple with foreheads rested against one another. She was happy they're both okay. Even though he betrayed the family, he deserves love. Everybody does. She watches him move his lips to capture his fiancés in an affectionate kiss like they're the only two people in the world. She recognizes that feeling. She also recognizes that ring on the brunette's right hand.

Phoebe: Oh my god, that Piper's ring!

* * *

><p>Seconds passed by in utter silence feeling like a lifetime piling up. He can't bring himself to look up, only allows his lungs to freeze with misery as he moves his hand atop the ring and sigh mournfully. The upcoming events could very well kill him. His eyes lock with hers. An understanding. A promise made. They'd face it together.<p>

Piper: Why is _my_ ring on _her_ finger?

The Charmed Ones watch the couple as Chris helps Charlie up, as he kisses her left hand. Explaining what happens next could very well send the world crashing down. Chris clears his throat and after a few false starts he finds Charlie taking the reins.

Charlie: I was engaged to your son.

Piper stares blankly at the couple before them, oblivious to her sisters' eyes falling on her or her husband's hand on her shoulder. A haunting quote Charlie said earlier takes a stab at her ears, _"I got engaged. His lordship says hey by the way. Ya' know, he's real anxious to see you_." Her hands go over her stomach as the baby kicks and she finds herself growing angry at the couple.

Piper: Stop lying!  
>Chris: She's <em>NOT<em>!

Eyes snap to the halfbreed surprised by his outburst. Challenging Piper wasn't an everyday occurrence at the Halliwell manor. His body shakes violently with nerves as he stares down his family.

Chris: Your baby boy, the twice blessed is gonna grow up and terrorize people with his powers, take over. Kill even.

Bitter resentment raises up in the halfbreed's chest as they immediately jump to denial. Three different irate women snap at the halfbreed calling him everything from a lying bastard to a manipulative maniac. He hates it. His hand slips from Charlie's and he menacingly approaches the group, his voice blazing with a fiery passion.

Chris: Don't you think I want to be lying? Damn it. He was my best friend and I looked up to him for as long as I could remember following him, wanting to be just like him. I sacrificed everything for him and you know what I'd do it again, and again… screw the consequences.

He eyes them practically tasting their underlining disbelief despite his proclamation. Then he says something before he can even stop it, something he'll grow to regret.

Chris: And screw you too. I'll save Wyatt without your help.

Shimmering out, Chris and Charlie disappear leaving the Halliwell clan to their own devices... devices that can only lead to heartbreak and misery for both parties.

**Review.**

**Sorry that this chapter's short but the next one memory invasion begins and it'll probably be the longest chapter yet. Again, thanks for reading.**


	13. Chapter Twelve

**Here's another thrilling installment of S2SY.  
>I had it finished last night but I had a date with Jerrod Niemann, Blake Shelton, and Brad Paisley.<br>This is the first of the memory chapters, so let me know if you're into it and if I should keep up with the memories.**

**Enjoy!**

On the pier, Chris finds himself in the late hours of the night. Sleep hadn't come to him since his last altercation with the Halliwells. Words were said from both parties, words both would regret. He didn't have the luxury of not knowing the gravity of his words. He told his mother, aunt, uncle to all screw themselves officially earning his spot in hell.

He feels sympathy for the foamy white caps of the waves. They ride destructive paths that are washed up onto the shore before they meet their demise. He vaguely wonders if that's what'll become of him. Will he keep with this pursuit to save his cousin endangering himself until he's no more?

Swallowing hard, the halfbreed slips his hands into the pockets of his jeans and stares out knowing that if he were a selfish man he'd dive off this pier, let the waves crash down on him, and be taken away with the current. But he can't do it. Instead he stumbles down the planked walkway back towards dry land fretting the panic attack that'll cripple him. Having the weight of the world on your shoulders came at a price and that price was his.

Except this panic attack feels different; it feels like someone's trying to rip him apart molecule by molecule. Natural instincts tell him to fight it. He braces his shoulders, buckles his knees and tries to stand his ground. However it doesn't work. A primal roar of pain and misery echoes through the air as he's moved through distance and crashing into the floor of the attic.

His chest heaves up and down as he tries to pull himself up and crashed back onto the floor once more. Instead of trying to pull himself up and hitting the floor a third time, Chris rolls onto his back and laughs a bitter mad man laugh.

Chris: A cellphone would have worked quite nicely, too.  
>Piper: We all talked and decided that we just don't believe you.<p>

The stubbornness of the eldest Halliwell sisters was unmatchable... at least in their generation. As the halfbreed rolls his head to the side and looks at brunette there's a gleam in his eye that shows he's not one to give up without a fight either. Getting to his feet is a struggle but he does it. His chest still rises and falls unsteadily as he watches frowning at the distrust embedded in the woman's face. It's hard to believe she's the one that'd die for him and start this domino effect.

Chris: Well you wouldn't be Piper if you did believe me.

The teen steels himself by balling up his hands into fists and stiffening his shoulders. His attention slowly turns to Phoebe, a nervousness finding its way into his stomach and forming a pit. Every fiber of his being screams out at him to stop but his mouth betrays him voicing the question he's not sure he wants the answer to.

Chris: Et tu, Phoebe?

His head cocks to the side as he tries for a better read, not wanting to believe his initial findings. No way his mother, of all people, would betray him. She's the woman that'd one day chase away every worry or fear, every threat to her baby boy and die trying. Something tells him, more like that nagging voice that sounds like Wyatt, that this isn't someday and the present isn't much of a gift. She meets his eyes with an unwavering certainty.

Phoebe: Yeah, me too… it's just after all the half-truths and bold faced lies I can't trust you.  
>Chris: Ouch.<p>

It was all he could muster. His hand involuntarily moves to his chest to see if his heart is still there. Then, almost as if a part of him was enjoying it, Chris turns slightly to the left to meet Paige's. There was never a day when his Paige wouldn't side with him. She loved him, left her son in his care but this Paige didn't know him like that Paige. So he hesitantly asks.

Paige: Sorry dude, a bit out voted over here. 3-1 ya' know.  
>Chris: Three to one? Who else?<p>

Almost as if on cue Cole shimmers in asking if he's late. Immediately the third veto came into the room and with a knives in his heart and back Chris snaps.

Chris: What in the hell do I have to do to prove to you that I'm not the villain!  
>Piper: Funny you should ask.<br>Phoebe: We're going to see the truth for ourselves.  
>Chris: How?<p>

As fear finds its way through his entire being, that smile that shows they're up to no good and on the same page at that appears. He's fucked. He's more aware now than in any other instant that this family he's facing off with isn't his. They haven't had the same experiences, lessons, or maturity his Piper, Paige, Cole, and Phoebe have. Through gritted teeth he waits impatiently for someone to speak.

Cole: A spell.

Now his heart is in his throat.

Chris: You can't go to the future. The resistance is gone, demons roam, you're not safe. Nobody is!  
>Paige: Hey, it's okay. We're not going to the future. We're just going to dabble in your memories.<br>Chris: WHAT!

Paige's attempt at downplaying the situation blows up in her face. Every fear he had about going to the past was about to be affirmed. He goes to prevent it but it's too late to stop it.

Piper: We call upon the ancient power.

_No, no, no, no. NO!_

Paige: To helps us in a dark hour.

_Stop them. Stop them. Do something… Anything! Think!_

Phoebe: Questions of good and evil ruin our peace and serenity,  
>Cole: so help us figure out this mysterious entity.<p>

_Quick! Now or Never!_

Chris: But help him to conceal his identity!

Before the Charmed Ones and Cole can mount a protest or undo what the halfbreed has done, they drop like flies, crashing hard onto the hardwood floor with a THUD! The second they hit the floor, they're sent into a room that'd be completely black if it wasn't for the translucent stage beneath them. Chris knew where they stood in their minds was a simulated version of the Tribunal's court and that his memories would soon show themselves. For that he felt sick. If his part of the spell doesn't protect him, he's royally screwed.

Cole: Where're we? What the hell'd you do?  
>Chris: Nothing. Your spell brought us here, I… I just protected my identity.<br>Piper: Great more secrets, just what we needed!  
>Chris: No, what you need is to get your heads out of your asses and see the bigger picture here. I'm not evil!<p>

His general vicinity on the stage was nowhere near where he was when he was arguing with Cole. His automatic response when threatened or challenged is to rise up to it. So his body responded, going towards a very challenging Piper just shy of center stage. Just then an image is projected upwards from the ground where he just stepped.

All eyes fall on the image of an obviously frenzied fifteen year old boy. Immediately all parties identify the halfbreed, despite his shorter swept up chocolate mane, brilliantly bright blue eyes, and still developing features.

_Every inch of flesh on his body feels like its being pricked with razor-sharp needles. There's green goo that looks like the slime they use on Nickelodeon splattered across the shirt he wears. When eyes dulled to an unfeeling navy focus in on his image reflected in the mirror, he feels as though the fabrics shrinking, tightening around his throat and asphyxiating him. He rips the shirt open and the sounds of buttons hitting the floor barely make it past the blood pounding his ears._

_After being free from his cotton cage, Chris wipes the obscene amount of goo on his hand off on the shirt. He's got to cleanse his hands of his sin. He's got to get away from it. The tie that'd been around his neck hours before reveals itself tied tightly around his forearm where a shard of glass had previously been embedded and that'd be his first scar in the not too distant future._

_That's how Charlie finds him. His hands run through his mocha mane and find themselves intertwining at the back of his head as he moves back and forth like a caged animal oblivious to her presence. She intervenes grabbing him by the arms. But he pushes past her._

_Charlie: What happened back there, Chris?  
>Chris: I killed them like the heartless S.O.B. that I am. I killed them all… in cold blood no less. <em>

_A disbelieving look appears on her face and drives him mad. The moment she crosses her arms, purses her lips, and lets her eyes burn into him- her own personal scolding method- he snaps. He lands a fist in the drywall and growls in frustration. _

_Chris: Don't look at me like that Char! Whataya want to hear? That I'm sorry for what I did? That I'm sorry for crossing that line? Well I'm not. I'd do it again in a heartbeat because those demons deserve it. It was justice.  
>Charlie: Chris, that's no justice that's vengeance!<br>Chris: It's the same damn thing.  
>Charlie: It's not and you used to know that.<em>

_Chris Halliwell knew he was falling in the black, spiraling out of control just like he knew he one day might. But being by her side as Piper Halliwell was murdered was just too much for the halfbreed. He'd close his eyes and still see her. He was hopelessly haunted and refusing to let people die for him anymore. He wants to be alone because survivors guilt is tearing him apart. _

_Chris: you wouldn't understand. You weren't there. You didn't have to watch the light go out of her eyes or her take an athame to the gut that was meant for you. You weren't cradling her in your arms as she took her last breath. (silence) Go see him. He's the one that needs you now. He just had to bury his mother. He could use a friend.  
>Charlie: I'm not leaving you Chris.<em>

_The words register in Piper's voice. He's back lying on the floor grasping his bleeding arm and watching Aunt Piper die all over again. Hands grasp onto Charlie's arms as he drives her back into the wall, eyes ablaze with demon-like glows. She meets his eyes for the first time in her entire life, she doesn't see her Chris. She doesn't know what she sees._

_Chris: He loves you. I don't.  
>Charlie: You don't mean that.<em>

_It words he doesn't feel an ounce of truth behind. In fact he'd rather die than say the words. But that week he did die a little inside. He lost that naïve spark he'd carried with him. Maybe it was to keep her safe, maybe it was to protect his heart. Maybe it was survivors guilt and a desire to be the best of friend he can to Wyatt. It was to protect the people he loves._

_Chris: I don't love you, Charlie. Get it through your head. _

Phoebe: What the hell?

Chris turns to Phoebe hesitantly, the mechanical and methodical steps of breathing no longer occurring. To him that was his most evil moment, the only time he'd allowed himself to lay hands on Charlie or given into his demonic half so readily. He knew what she saw because he saw it too… a monster.

Chris: That's out of context.

This time it was Piper that challenged the halfbreed with a great deal of superiority. She got what she wanted to see. She saw a villain, a monster. She had her proof. She closed in on Chris capitalizing on his weakness.

Piper: You admitted to enjoying a slaughter! You laid hands on Charlie and casted her aside like yesterday's newspaper! How is that not evil!  
>Chris: Shut up, Piper. You don't know what you're talking about.<p>

He said it through clenched teeth, an attempt to keep his mouth shut slowly failing him. That moment was set into motion by her death. He'd pushed Charlie into her son's arms. It was all her fault and she had the audacity to tear him down. He couldn't take it.

Piper: We saw it, Chris. Your memory from your head.  
>Chris: I enjoyed it because they deserved it. They were demons that took magical children and sold them as slaves! They tortured me for days before you showed up and when you did, you came alone. You thought you could handle them and your arrogance was the death of you. They <em>murdered <em>you before my eyes and you have the audacity to yell at me for sending Charlie away, to be there for your son. How dare you!

Piper Halliwell stands in stunned silence as she stares at the halfbreed trying to comprehend the words that spilled out of the now regret filled Chris. Maybe this wasn't her brightest idea afterall…

**Review!**


	14. Chapter Thirteen

**Hey guys, got another exciting Chapter for all ya' all. Hope you enjoy.  
>Be sure to review at the end and thank you to all those that review,<br>Especially my loyal reviewers **

Piper Halliwell wants desperately to yell at the halfbreed. She wants to kick, scream, call him a liar… anything. But she can't. The power of his rage, the intensity in his eyes, not even he was that convincing of a liar. She'd die infront of this boy, for this boy and wind up leaving her family behind- alone to fend for themselves. She felt sick knowing she'd give up _everything _for the future boy, a person she didn't even like.

Piper: Show me. Show me how I die.

Chris flinches back violently, eyes widening at the lunacy of her request. His head shakes back and forth violently, all instincts telling him to retract from that circle and do whatever it takes to not go back down that road.

Chris: You don't want to see—I don't even want to see it.  
>Piper: I'll be the judge of that.<br>Chris: This isn't about seeing how you die, this is about you not believing you'd die for me!

A broken bitter laughter cuts through the air and he steels himself.

Chris: You didn't. _My_ Piper did. As far as I'm concerned you're a completely different person. My Piper was endearing, warm, and compassionate. EVERYTHING you're not!

Tensions that'd been mounting exploded before his very eyes and he couldn't believe the words came out of his mouth in such a fashion. Nor did he expect a disgruntled Piper to throw her hands up into that all too familiar explosive position and flick. His hands immediately go up to his chest and roam around the rest of his body looking for a point of contact. But in his mind they don't have powers.

Piper: Chris, I'm—  
>Chris: No you're not. (looks up at everyone) but you will be. You want to see my memories… you've got them.<p>

Chris walks back into the center and focuses on that particular November 16th eyes never leaving the group.

_Chains coming from the ceiling of the pyramid-like structure he was entrapped in suspend him in the air. It almost feels like being hung from the gallows, wrist captured in restraints and feet off the ground just waiting for death to come… or worse, slavery. Every muscle in his body aches for a freedom that may never come. _

_His arms ache to the point that he wishes they'd get ripped out of socket and put an end to his misery. It'd been seven days, seven long, agonizing days. And yet, he's refused to break because they'd be coming for him. He knew his father was turning over every rock with a vengeance to find him, his mother and aunts on his heels ready to risk life and limb for him, for family._

_And they'd just begun._

_He feels an athame travel heavily down his bare chest leaving blood trailing in its wake. It follows the contour of his last rib and wraps around to his back. Before he knows it the blade is driven into the meat of his shoulder savagely and he's screaming bloody murder. The blade is twisted all the way around and one thing flashes across his mind. 'So this is what death feels like.'_

Phoebe: Oh my God!

The middle Halliwell sister had seen her fair share of gruesome, sickly sounding things but not in a million years did she think she'd witness such ruthless cruelty delivered to a boy so young. She hides her head and Cole's chest unable to watch someone she knows suffer so greatly. The moment Piper requested to see her death, Phoebe knew no good could come from it. She just didn't know how right she was. And she wasn't alone in her thought.

Paige had no desire to even enter the halfbreed's memories let alone watch death, destruction, and deceit happen before her eyes. He said his past was tortured and she believed. She'd seen enough kids at social services to know when they were lying or hiding something and when she looks at them. If her gut instinct wasn't enough proof, the scars on his back was plain writing that spelled tortured past.

Paige: Can we pause or something?  
>Chris: Sorry Paige. You just got to stomach it.<p>

He really was sorry for putting Paige through this. She'd done nothing to entice this moment. She was the victim of circumstance, a person who couldn't find her voice. He cautiously moves around the circle and stands by her side for moral support.

She was going to need it…

_Chris cries out one last strangled cry as the demon pulls out the blade and moves to grab his latest weapon of torture. Trembling, the halfbreed hangs feeling blood trickling down his spine and praying for unconsciousness to claim him. Fortunately God blesses him with an even bigger gift. _

_Piper Halliwell crashes into the ground hard, farced to be dropped instead of orbed down gently which was the plan. The area was whitelighter proofed leaving just her to carry on the battle but it doesn't matter. The moment she sees Chris hanging there, pain corroding every line of his body, she knows she'll save him or die trying. _

_If only she knew how true it was. _

_Her hands move automatically in that lethal action blowing up the demon, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and an athame dropping to the floor. She races forward to the boy taking his face in her hands and examining every feature with unwavering concern._

_Chris: M'fine.  
>Piper: No. Not fine. We got to get you out of here, Peanut.<br>Chris: Sounds fucking good.  
>Piper: (lightly scolding) Language.<br>Chris: (slightly smirking) Yes M'am._

_He hangs his head allowing himself a moment of rest as Piper begins working on freeing him from his restraints. As chocolate locks bob down ,a very sympathetic Piper stares at the wound on his shoulder. Her heart bleeds as he bleeds, feeling the guilt of not being able to save him from this burden. She works on the restraints, picking the locks of the heavy shackles. With the relinquish he falls to the ground kissing the cobblestone because his body's slow to react. _

_Momentarily, he feels the weakness taking control but then he feels the strength of his magic pulsing through his veins. Skin on fire and feeling like a million needles poking him, he lets out a pained groan. Piper sits down and rests his head in her lap instructing him to take a minute, such power is overwhelming. She had no idea. After being bound for a week, it was coming back with a vengeance. _

_So consumed by the situation, neither heard the demon slip into the room, draw his athame, and sneak up behind the eldest Halliwell. _

Chris couldn't help himself watching the situation; his eyes squeeze shut and attention moving from the screen. He listens to the sisters yelling at future Piper to look out, knowing that it did nothing but had to do something. Why had he shown them this? He knew it hurt him to dredge these up more than him.

_Suddenly her soothing words stop, causing the teen to look up and take in the red blood splatter and tip of a blade pointing outward just inches above his eyes._

_Chris: NO!_

_The power he'd been trying to get back under control finds its way to the surface as he takes out the demons legs and springs to his feet. A deep primal growl is bellowed out as hungry hands take the demon's skull between his hands. He watches the demon's skull shatter between his hands and his body erupt in flames. Taking a deep breath he fights the screaming of his arm to stop jarring it and returns to Piper's side moving to pack the wound. He tears the sleeve off her shirt and has to use his teeth to split the fabric again finding his arm's strength depleting. Packing the wound, he finds himself moving frantically and trying hard to fight his hands shaking and do what his father had taught. There was no orbing in and if he wanted to get her to Paige, he'd have to deliver her. _

_Chris: I'm going to get you out of here, okay._

_She was fading fast, words becoming more breathy as she speaks._

_Piper: Tell Wy, I love him—just'n case.  
>Chris: There's no just in case. Nobody's going to die today.<em>

_Without much other option, Chris carries Piper's limp body over his uninjured shoulder in a fireman's carry bound and determined to get her to safety. She was his Aunt Piper. She baked him and Wyatt cookies every Friday for after school, let him help in the kitchen convinced he'd be Chef Christopher, she'd give him everything, anything loving him like a mother would when his was busy with work. He couldn't just let her die on the dusty cobblestone of a demonic fortress. _

_Chris: S'gonna be okay. Stay with me. _

_Piper: Love you, P'nut._

_He has to fight the overwhelming desire his legs have to turn into jelly and keep moving, his feet digging deeper and deeper into the sand. Sheer will power and adrenaline feed his starving body propelling him forward and numbs the searing hot pain still ravaging his shoulder. Lips moved rambling, going through the list of names that could make it down to the underworld._

_Chris: Dad, Paige, Henry, Leo, Wyatt, Charlie… Dad, Paige, Henry, Leo, Wyatt, Charlie—_

_The anthem was numbed by the blood pounding in his ears as he stumbles momentarily falling to his knees. A weak groan of discomfort escape Piper's lips. She's so heavy bearing down on his shoulder but he wouldn't dare leave her behind. He whispers apologies and forces himself to his feet with every ounce of strength he can muster going back to his calling. Time seemed to wretchedly drag on taking the air from his chest and sinks his heart with each and every step. Then suddenly, time sped up as he hears his name. _

_Paige: Chris! Piper!_

_She rushes towards him with his mother and father not too far behind but he can't think of anything, anyone but Piper. Hands ready to heal reach out towards his bloodied shoulder but he falls to his knees once more letting Piper slide off his shoulder and into the soft sand. He rolls onto his back lying next to her. His eyes focus in on her and the words come out in a desperate croak. _

_Chris: Heal her first. Au- Heal Piper._

_Numbly he watches his Aunt Paige hovered her hands over the lethal wound and concentrates…concentrates….concentrates. He doesn't feel his mother take his and Piper's hands or Cole applying pressure to his wound to stem the blood flow. All he sees is what he doesn't see. There's no glow. No healing. No magic. Just death. Paige chokes out a sob but almost mechanically rotates to him holding out her hands to heal him._

_Chris: No! What're you doing? Heal Piper! Heal her! _

_Cole: Chris!_

_He shouted out over the teenager's shocked and strangled pleas snapping the kid's attention back to him. Steeled eyes beg the boy to stay still, knowing that he had to be healed. Chris momentarily fixated himself on his dad but a question seems to linger in the kids eyes. Why? So his father answered._

_Cole: Paige can't heal the dead. _

_The words send the healed teen into a frenzy. He tries to push past his mother but she struggles to hold him down, her heart shattering into a million pieces as the distraught boy fumbles for his beloved aunt. She'd lost another sister and something tells her she lost a part of her son too. The empath gives up on her struggle and lets him go falling into her baby sister sobbing onto her shoulder not noticing the teen burying his head into Piper's chest sobbing._

_Chris: M'sorry! I'm so sorry._

Chills surge up and down the spine of Piper Halliwell as she watches the stilled image of the boy sobbing. The man she'd steeled herself against took the burden of her death on his shoulders, fighting like hell to save her beforehand. Her sister's latch onto her as if she'd disappear at any moment. Her eyes roam across the room to the warrior and he can't look at her. He crosses his arms over his chest and stares off into the black nothingness off right.

She moves out of her sister's clutches and to the halfbreed resting her hand on his forearm. Eyes snap over to her with a hint of tears in his eyes. She looks at him like his Piper does, sympathetically smiles at him like she does, everything about her in that moment is his Piper. His heart constricts painfully in his chest as he allows himself to lock eyes.

Piper: You know that wasn't your fault, right? None of it.  
>Chris: That's what they keep telling me.<br>Piper: Now I'm saying it. You were noble, brave, heroic. You can't save them all.

'_You can't save them all.'_

He's been told this line more times than he'd care to remember. But they're words only said after failure on his part. He's grown to despise the words with a fiery passion. That's probably why he did what he did. Why he chose to put selfish needs first when he arrived, claiming they were for Wyatt but also possibly bettered his future too.

Chris: Maybe I couldn't save you then but I did now. You're not going to die like your future counterpart, none of you are. I took some liberties in this timeline in an attempt to spare you from seeing this… knowing this future… living it.  
>Piper: What kind of liberties?<br>Chris: I killed them, Piper. Do it again in a heartbeat too. Everyone can be saved… including Wyatt.

Cole watches the hope gleaming in his eyes, secretly searching for a betrayal of his words and finding none. Two entirely contradictive approaches are taken with Wyatt when he is referred to by Chris. There's the Wyatt he knew at a younger age, the Wyatt he'd lay his own life down for. Then there's the Wyatt that he's the sworn enemy of… the malevolent dictator he fought against. Cole wants to know why the good outweighs the bad…Why Chris seems to find everyone worth saving, even him after all the wrongs he's committed.

Cole: If you don't mind me asking, why are you so determined to save Wyatt after everything he's done? Why not just do away with him?  
>Piper: That's my son you're talking about Chris offing!<br>Cole: It's also the Source. If I remember correctly, you had no trouble using that as an excuse to vanquish me.

Seeing the subject was touchy, and trying desperately to get his mind off the last memory, Chris returns to the center of the room and extends his hand forward remembering the kind hearted soul that his cousin was. With a smirk he turns to the people horrified of what they might see next and motions towards the colors swirling, settling into an image.

Chris: See for yourself.

**Review!  
>Your opinions <strong>_**matter**_**.**


	15. Chapter Fourteen

**It's time for another thrilling chapter of S2SU!  
>Sorry chapter is posted a day late.<br>Had a Six Flags Weekend. I hope this chapter more than makes up for it's lateness.  
>I don't own Charmed. (sadly)<strong>

_Christopher Halliwell was nine when he learned that monsters in the closet weren't far off from the demons in the underworld. His parents had been good to keep him and Wyatt safe from that truth, that demons wanted them dead but there was only so much they can do. It was after school and football practice was cancelled but the Halliwell boys couldn't get ahold of any of the busy adults that they called parents. So the boys decide to wait it out tossing the football around behind the bleachers occasionally catching a glance at the workers reseeding the field. _

_Chris: Ugh!_

_The nine year old groans loudly running slender fingers through chocolaty locks styled into a faux hawk. Groans of frustration pass through his lips as he frets over another failed attempt to throw a proper spiral. On the opposite end of the pass is an ten year old that already appeared to be a carbon copy of his father, from his emerald green irises to his flowing blond locks. _

Immediately, Piper Halliwell identifies the blond boy as her son and puts her hand over her stomach smiling joyously. Her baby boy was healthy and happy with ten fingers and his father's eyes. He was perfect. He was hers and she couldn't believe her eyes. The halfbreed looks at her through his peripheral vision and smiles at the sight. It warmed his heart to see her look at him for the boy he was and fretted her seeing what he'd become.

_Chris: C'mon Wyatt! Tell me what I'm doing wrong!  
>Wyatt: I don't know Chris. It's kind of entertaining watching you fret.<em>

_Annoyance crosses the child's features as he eyes his cousin. Letting out a huff the older boy caves tucking the ball under his arm and rushing over to Chris. _

_Wyatt: You're pretty close. You just havta line your fingers up with the seams like this. _

_The older boy takes the ball in his hand and shows the younger how to line his fingers up along the laces grinning as Chris's eyes and ears focus intently on the lesson. _

Piper smiles as she catches the little boy looking adoringly to her son. They appeared to be the closest of friends, almost like brothers. Guilt hits her again. There's no denying the bond before her and yet she wants to. She doesn't want to believe that brown haired blue eyed boy would grow up to be Chris, that her little boy would be evil, that these two boys would be fighting one another a little over a decade later.

_Chris: Like this?  
>Wyatt: Yeah, just like that.<br>Chris: Go long. _

_Wyatt nods and takes off, the echo of Converse tennis shoes smacking the gravel echoing loudly. Looking over his shoulder the blond moves readily watching his little cousin throw a perfect spiral. Springing into the air, the lanky blond catches the ball pulling it into his chest and already celebrating before he's on the ground. The boy on the ground smiles thrusting his arms above his head smiling like he'd won the lottery, so consumed by a job well done that he didn't notice the demon shimmer in behind him. _

_Horror fills Wyatt's eyes as he freezes wanting to yell at the boy to look out but his mouth suddenly goes dry. Chris turns to look over his shoulder confused as to why his cousin froze with the horrified expression tainting his features. Towering over him is a cloaked figure with skeleton like hands. If he didn't know better he'd say the grim reaper was standing before him. Not knowing of the demon existence, Chris stumbles backwards tripping over his own feet and crashing onto his backside. _

_Demon: What a sweet little treat!_

_Hands claw at the gravel beneath him trying to pull himself back and distance himself from the unknown monster. He didn't remember the world of demons he was born into and his mother and father fought to protect him for years. Now he was face to face with it and terrified out of his mind._

_Suddenly another perfect spiral flies through the air over his head and hard into the demon's chest. Both heads snap in the direction to see Wyatt Halliwell standing his ground chest heaved out and eyes determined. Wyatt Halliwell knew of the world of demons, everyone after the twice blessed until he was three. Then there was radio silence until a demon took advantage of his parent's arguing before his dad went "Up There" when he was seven and got him to conjure a carbon copy of his dad in an attempt to get into the heavens. Now he was face to face with it again but this time, no mom, no dad, no aunts. Just him and his innocent._

_Wyatt: Stay away from my friend!_

Christopher Halliwell was a thankful man. For the first time through this entire ordeal he saw a ray of light. His last minute adaptation, may have just saved his life. Wyatt didn't say friend. If they paid close enough attention, they'd be aware that Wyatt's lips didn't match. It was censored like a cussword on cable. His mission thanked the lord as a portion of his heart wanted to smother the maker. He wanted Wyatt to blurt out Cousin, listen to them gasp… have them love him. Because in the end, isn't that what everyone wants?

_The younger Halliwell rolls over onto his hands and knees before crawling out of harm's way. The usually tough little boy had fear flashing in his eyes and every other inch of his body as well. Every notion to use his magic was out the window for the youngest but the oldest had been trained to do nothing but. Lanky arms stretched outwards as an energy wave was exerted from his fingers turning the demon into a pile of ashes upon contact. Amazed by himself the boy looked down at his fingers smiling. _

_Wyatt: Dang!_

_His first real taste of the kill using his powers: Wyatt Halliwell was impressed. Chris on the other hand was terrified hiding under the bleachers with tears burning at the white in his eyes. Chris'd never admit it but he wanted to cry. He would have to if Wyatt didn't cross the space between them and extend his hand down to Chris. Reassurance oozed from the oldest. _

_Wyatt: C'mon Chris. You're safe.  
>Chris: How can you be so sure?<br>Wyatt: Because as long as I'm around, nothing bad 's gonna happen to you. _

Right then, the image cut out leaving the halfbreed once again alone with the people that'd imprisoned him within his own mind. (which he still hadn't felt they'd properly atoned for yet) Paige snickers drawing the halfbreed's attention.

Chris: Glad you enjoyed yourself.  
>Paige: I'm sorry it's just funny seeing the big bad demon hunter afraid of a little demon.<br>Chris: He was seven feet tall (after blurting Chris pauses a moment to gain composure. He's always been defensive of his abilities since everyone and their mother wanted to compare him to Wyatt) Besides. That was my first demon. Why don't we invade your memories next and see how you handled yours? Huh?

Paige brings her fingers to the right edge of her lips sliding them all the way to the right. After figuratively zipping up her lips, Paige continues to lock them up and throw away the key causing the halfbreed to laugh. He really did miss his Aunt Paige, her sarcasm, cleverness… everything really. At least this Paige was the closest to her future counterpart not as mature or independent but close.

Phoebe Halliwell's ears perked up to the still unfamiliar sound. Had Chris laughed before? Had she heard him? It was quite a beautiful laugh, soft… sweet… flawless. She'd heard him snicker and sarcastically cackle but never heard the song of his laughter. Her eyes linger over to her son savvy sister happy that she got to see her little boy be the hero instead of the villain they'd surly see. Then they switch over to Cole who wasn't phased by the laughter either just eyeing the boy intently trying to figure out his end game.

The more she looks at the man she sees the nine year old boy. How could that nine year old, happy go lucky kid turn into such a hardened warrior. She dreaded seeing how. Of course, trying to stifle his sisters "curiosity" (nosiness) was next to impossible and she knew things were about to get darker.

Piper: So you're telling me that boy that sworn to always protect you, the half angel strong beacon of good magic, is going to turn into a monster. I don't believe you! I won't. All you've done so far is tell us Wyatt's evil. Wyatt's evil. Wyatt's evil. How could a good little boy that was just the hero of your story go villainous!

Her anger's just the same as his; that Halliwell stubbornness and anger brewed into a tornado of trouble when combined but neither seemed to want to back down. A bubbling rage festers in his gut and makes its way out in a fizzy explosion. Toned arms motion out to her and he roars loudly.

Chris: I blame you!

It was the first time he'd ever voiced his frustration with the eldest sister but he was so tired of the games, tired of the hatred and mistrust… just plain exhausted. Despite his own cerulean irises widening in disbelief he balls up his fists in anger and brings them to his sides.

It was better to hurt her with words than to have her watch he concludes.

Chris: You let something get to him when he was young, you letting Leo be an Elder that left him fatherless, your death that caused him to want to be all powerful and go all Anakin Skywalker. Y-O-U! You!

Once again he'd made himself public enemy number one as the sisters banded behind Piper for support and strength. Cole's eyes eerily calm indicating to Chris he'd lost any ground he'd gained with his old man by his loud declaration.

Piper: You're lying. L-Leo'd never leave… Wy- Wy… he'd—  
>Chris: Just like you'd never leave Wyatt? Just like you'd never die for me. Damn it, Piper! I'm not trying to be the bad guy.<br>Piper: No, you're trying to make me out to be!

Finding it her duty and knowing she's the only one that could get both short fused parties to calm down, Phoebe Halliwell wedged herself between the two titans, literally. Extending her arms outward as they closed in she shouts both their names. Instantly, Chris freezes out of the habit of never wanting to disappoint his mother but quickly becomes reanimated. (Not going unnoticed by Cole.)

Phoebe: That's enough you two! Bickering isn't going to solve anything!  
>Cole: Seeing is believing.<br>Chris: She doesn't want to see it.  
>Piper: Because it's not real.<br>Chris: No because I don't want you to feel that baby kick in your tummy and associate it with the apocalyptic nightmare he brings over two decades from now.

There it was, his fear rearing its ugly head again. It dances in his eyes, the memory of his father revealing the story of his unborn brother still all too fresh. Knowing his mother even for a second thought that baby was a curse makes him wonder what she thought of him, what she'd think of Wyatt… if his world would ever be the same. He doesn't want Wyatt to live through it.

Piper: I would never-  
>Chris: Stop saying you'd never! You have no idea what you're capable of until put to the test.<p>

Intensity of the heated words, emotional anguish of the lesson learned, triggered a memory he wished would be burned. Strong hands reach forward as if trying to capture the memory. One hand stretches out quickly followed by the extension of the other taking another swing at it. Nothing but air. He's stuck. Trapped. Cornered like a caged animal forced to relive the moment in time he's marked at the turning point.

Chris: Fuck, fuck… Fuck! Fuck no! Turn away.  
>Piper: No!<br>Chris: Turn away or I'll _NEVER_ forgive you for this!

The vein in his neck pulses something fierce as teeth grit determined to get them to look away at any cost… to not see this, him, or them. Disheveled chocolate locks fall over blue irises that plead his case. Paige Halliwell lets out a heavy sigh and turns around only adding the dramatic sigh to please her sisters. Otherwise there was no denying Paige was on team Chris. The others were a different story.

Cole: Well, now you've got my interest peaked.

Both girls nod already engrossed in the scene before them.

_There's a love burning in his eyes as tears stream down his face. With the power of three broken, every demon imaginable wanted to finish of Paige and Phoebe. Charlie and Wyatt disappeared shortly after Chris pushed her into his beloved cousin's arms and the rest of the family was left more vulnerable than ever. _

_They fought, kept on surviving, because that's what Halliwells do best._

_They survive._

_But, also like most Halliwells, death came and got her way too soon. He's crying now, leaning against the doorway to the crypt fighting to keep standing. They buried her today. His mother. His everything. His world began and ended with her. He stairs into the crypt but you can't look past his tall lanky figure and actually get a look at the names. _

_Bright cerulean had dulled to a dark unfeeling navy as he pulls his jacket tighter. Rain falls freely all around him but he didn't dare leave his post at his mother's tomb. He'd not moved from his post all month, nor did he think he'd ever for that manner. The sounds of footsteps crunching over fallen leaves, branches, and sloshing through the puddles echo in the air. _

_Fingers twitch as he turns around ready to send the person responsible for the intrusion flying if they even dared to intrude on his mourning. Nothing would make him leave his post, not even his father trying to take him home… to the house. The Victorian home located at 1329 Prescott Street would never be anything more than a house without her. _

_The teen pries his darkened irises away from where her casket lies to the wooded cemetery for the first time since she was put into her final resting place. The silhouette of a man draws near and at first he thinks it might be his father or uncle but casts the idea aside when he realizes the lean athletic build was lankier than his dad and Henry. As he does near, however, Chris sees him. _

_Chris: (breathily) Wyatt?_

_For over a year there'd been radio silence between Chris and Wyatt since he and Charlie ran away after the funeral. One year three months and four days… not that he was counting. A tangled web of emotions twist around him leaving him suffocating. A pain jerks in his chest and before he knows it, he wraps strong lanky arms around his cousin in a vise grip of an embrace. None of the anger he had for Wyatt running away mattered. _

_Wyatt: So I guess that answers the 'are you pissed at me' question I'm about to ask._

_Chris: Still furious, but there'll be time for that later. Right now I just need my best friend. _

_The older cousin returns the embrace. _

_Wyatt: I'm sorry you have to know this pain, Christopher. _

_The teenager frowns knowing the pain his younger cousin's in. For a year he'd lived with that pain, festered in it, and now his dark side could exploit it in his cousin. After giving Chris a shoulder to cry on, they walk into the crypt staring at the plaques with names conveniently impossible to make out. _

_Chris: (sarcastically) Happy Birthday to me. _

_Wyatt: About that I understand you don't want to celebrate your birthday on the same day as your mother's funeral but I think you're going to like this one. _

_The decent into oblivion started now. He should have seen the signs from a mile away. The Wyatt Halliwell before him isn't the Wyatt Halliwell he knew. The all black Armani suit should have been an indicator, clad in black. Black clothing in their world seemed to be as clear of an indicator as a black hat in a western. He should have known that everything about Wyatt was… darker. Instead, the teenager unknowingly makes the deal with the devil. _

_In a shower of purple orbs a man appears with a cloth bag over his head and arms and legs bound together behind his back sitting on his knees. As a confusion contorts the young halfbreed's features, Wyatt allows himself to smirk. Everything was falling into place. _

_Completely at a loss of words, the baffled teen looks to his cousin in horror. What had his dearest friend become? The darkness ravishing his cousin becomes that more obvious but the painfully numb state controlling his thoughts and actions played it down. The teen nods his head, motioning for his younger cousin to divert his attention back to the bound figure._

_Wyatt: Go on, unwrap it._

_With the utmost hesitation, Chris extends a shaky hand out towards the bag. Holding his breath, Chris grips the bag and rips it from the prisoners head in one swift movement. Instantly, lungs freeze with misery. There was no erasing that face from his mind, from his memories. For all eternity, he'd remember that man and __**hate**__ him. Tiberius Fletcher. 35 years-old,6 foot 2, 195 pounds, single-white-male, fiery red hair, green eyes, and, not that it's painstakingly obvious, Phoenix witch aka assassin for hire. _

_To Chris he'll always be known for one thing…  
>His mother's murder.<br>And hell hath no fury like a halfbreed scorned. _

_Demonic energy, pure unadulterated hatred surges through every fiber of his being. Fists tighten into firm balls of fury and slam strongly into the face of Tiberius, all one hundred and sixty pounds of force thrust behind it. Like a sledgehammer colliding with the man, he went flying backwards crashing hard into the marble flooring. Again and again, bare knuckles collide with the face of the downed opponent while Chris balances on bended knee. Blood covers the teenager's knuckles and neither man is sure who its coming from. Flesh split on tightened knuckles and he roared with frightening volume._

_Springing up from the floor Chris immediately begins to drive devastating kicks into the Phoenix's torso. All black Circa skate shoes drive repetitively into rib after rib only to be fueled by the sickly CRACK echoing as each rib shattered. Heavy breathes erupt from the teenager as his chest heaves mercilessly from exhaustion. _

_Only the voice in his head, the morality that sounded like his mother yelling at him to stop, kept him from tearing the witch limb from limb. Blue eyes still ablaze with fury move to Wyatt and he lets a pained groan escape his lips as he shakes his knuckles out. Wyatt was loving it. He smirked a smirk contorted with sickly pleasure. _

_Chris: Alright. L-let's drop him off at the station. Let the cops deal with his ass. _

_Suddenly the smirk vanished and was replaced with a dissatisfied crease. _

_Wyatt: Now, why would you want to go and do a thing like that?  
>Chris: (Whispering) It's the right thing to do. <em>

_An outraged Wyatt sprawls out his arm motioning to a particular plaque with a blurred name on it. Chris's body tenses as his eyes follow Wyatt's hand._

_Wyatt: Fuck doing the right thing! Our mothers spent years trying to warp our minds with that morality bullshit… good and evil. Look at what doing the right thing did for them. It earned your mother an early grave, Christopher! Mine too! And for what?  
>Chris: The greater good.<br>Wyatt: To hell with that bullshit too. The greater good took my father away, took Char's mom away, killed our mothers—how many more lives are you going to let be compromised because you're still stuck in that good vs. evil bullshit. Find solitude in the gray. Stop this S.O.B from taking another life! KILL HIM!_

_Chris Halliwell submerged himself into the gray, diving head first promising himself to never let this scum hurt another person. It was to protect his family, protect others from feeling his pain. For vengeance. He extends his partially closed hand out before him, face stoic with certainty. Closing his hand and twisting his wrist, Chris makes the lethal motion of crushing the Phoenix's heart telekinetically. As the corpse disappears in a shower of purple orbs, a strong hand is placed on Chris's shoulder._

_Wyatt: Good, Christopher. C'mon. Let's get you home.  
>Chris: I told you I'm not going back there.<br>Wyatt: Not that home. The one where you belong. You're coming with me and Charlie. Together we'll rule this world._

_This is wrong. Chris knows it is but nothing seems right anymore and he just wants to follow Wyatt so badly that he gives in whole heartedly._

_Chris: You know I'd follow you anywhere, Wy._

As the image stills Chris Halliwell crouches forward in pain. The world seems to close in around him. A large throbbing pain pounds against his chest with the intensity of a thousand suns. The necessary steps to get air into his chest fail miserably. Salty liquid rushes down his cheeks. Strong leg muscles turn to jello forcing the halfbreed down to his knees.

What was happening to him?

Caught in a crushing tidal wave, Chris cries out feeling the emotional impact of the world toppling over onto him. He feels the slight sensation of a hand on his back but he can't focus. Small words mumbled force Chris to lift his head and look into the eyes of his favorite aunt.

Paige: C'mon, Chris. Concentrate on your breathing. In, out. That's it. Nice and slow.

His breathing pounds hard but feels a slight bit steadier than he did but the constant stress weighing down on a heavy heart did a number. Eyes focus in on Paige's tracing the concern and willing himself to calm down.

Until it worked.

Chris: Sorry. Just some memories remain blocked for reasons.  
>Paige: If anyone should be apologizing it's us.<br>Chris: You don't have to apologize, Paige. I know how hard it is to turn down the people we love even when they pull us head first into the abyss.  
>Paige: Tell me about it.<p>

**Review!  
>Your Opinion= Motivation<strong>


	16. Chapter Fifteen

**Ugh! Late again, I know but I come with a peace offering so hopefully I won't get attacked by a vicious mob of annoyed readers. Lol. Here's a quick little still from this chapter.  
>.<strong>

**Oh P.S. 50 reviews OH MY GOD!  
>Thank you. Thank you. Thank you to all that reviewed.<br>This chapter's dedicated to you **

The animosity in the air strangled the group, dividing and conquering. At the farthest end of the platform, Chris laid down with his arms tucked behind his head staring into the dark void that loomed overhead. This all started because they couldn't trust him but now the shoe was on the other foot. As they grew to trust him, his mistrust grew. They'd forced him into this and he was willing to fight tooth and nail to get out but what was left he had to do to escape this deathtrap called his memory. He moves to sit back on his forearms staring at the Halliwells and Cole with a patient face but pain ravishing his navy toned eyes.

Chris: What do you have to see for this to end, huh? Damn it, what do you want from me? You've seen me at my worst. You've seen me pushing people away and holding on for dear life.

The hopeless twinge that echoes in his voice puts a pang of guilt in everyone's hearts and drives them to look away in silence. But Chris doesn't want silence. He wants answers. Popping up from his position he lets frustration take precedence.

Chris: What do you want from me? It's not rhetorical. Phoebe? You wrote the spell. What the hell will it take for us to get the hell out of here so I can get back to my job?  
>Phoebe: (whispering) it should have ended already.<br>Chris: Speak up, Phoebe. Despite the large expanse things don't carry very well.  
>Phoebe: The spell should have ended as soon as we saw Wyatt evil.<br>Cole: Maybe if we seem them at his most evil.

Wide eyes, shock, and a unanimous NO are the responses. Piper couldn't take seeing her boy any more evil, Phoebe no more guilt, Paige to protect Chris from his memories, and Chris to protect all parties involved.

Chris: That's not going to happen. His worst… it—it's unspeakably heinous. Brought me inches away from killing him myself.  
>Phoebe: You'd kill your best friend, the boy you claim to love like a brother?<br>Chris: Wyatt killed anyone that dared defy him but I stood by him because I wanted to believe I could save him so badly. Even when he imprisoned my father in a pocket realm where he'd spend all eternity living out his worst actions, I couldn't bring myself to kill him. But what he did on December 21 2018 was the worst thing he ever did to me… to you. TO the Halliwell name.  
>Piper: What could possibly be so bad?<p>

Involuntarily, his eyes flip over to Paige. He didn't want to hurt her, the only one that showed compassion for him. He couldn't tell her that her nephew tortured and killed her and her husband before Chris's, Charlie's, and Junior's eyes. He couldn't tell them that Wyatt enjoyed it and that he'd of killed them all if he didn't need Junior and Chris. He shouldn't, wouldn't, couldn't but Paige caught the look of remorse in his eyes.

Paige: He did something to me, didn't he?  
>Chris: Don't ask things you don't want the answer to.<br>Paige: If he did you can say it. We're going to change it anyways.  
>Chris: He has his minions torture you and your husband only to heal you and do it again for days; made me, Junior, and Charlie watch… listen to your screams. I… I managed to mangle my hand enough to slip from my shackles but couldn't act fast enough. Right before you died, you made me promise to protect your son and look what happened to him. Junior's back in Wyatt's clutches. I… I'm sorry, Paige. I—I tried.<br>Paige: My son?

Of everything he said, the confession that she had a son outweighed it all. Holding onto that piece of info was her life raft through the storm of information so Chris decides to keep feeding her info on Junior and her maternal instinct. Consequences be damned.

Chris: His biological mother died in childbirth but you orbed him out of her to save his life. You always called him your little miracle. Then when Charlie's dad let the monster within possess him and had to be taken care of you welcomed her into your house with arms wide open. She—she's your foster daughter. You even saved me. After my mom died and I ran away with Wyatt hoping to save him, you searched forever just to bring us home… We all called you Momma Paige.

The information that she'd adopt Junior and he wasn't blood didn't change a thing. Paige loved her son already. And she also loved Charlie, that spunky brunette with the heart and fire of a natural born Halliwell. She even loved the boy before her, so brave and noble in his endeavors. The usually unemotional red head springs into his arms encompassing him in her embrace. For a moment he tenses up beneath the hug. How could she love him after all he's done, all they saw? Would he survive without that boundary he'd put between him and the whole family? Did any of it matter? No, he decides returning the hug full force.

Chris: I missed you so much, Paige.  
>Paige: Why didn't you tell me before?<p>

Chris swallows the lump in his throat, the weighted question crushing his windpipe. There were the rules; you're not supposed to tell them anything about the future, especially your lineage. Then there was the time for admittance never seemed quite right until now. Then there was the truth. Fear. He was afraid of telling any of them anything, of only being loved because they are supposed to love him.

There was also the answer he provides.

Chris: I promised myself I wouldn't get close because if I fail and go back to my future—

_They're not going to be there._

Everyone knew what he was thinking though he could never bring himself to finish the sentence or thought. Life without them was _manageable _but not really living. He was passing through; moving through life like a zombie and to feel alive again was bliss. He couldn't go back. He'd do anything to keep it from happening.

Anything.

That included showing her Lord Wyatt so he could get back to his mission. Slipping his arms off of Paige and placing them at his side, Chris walks to the center of the platform and thinks back to a time and place he fought for protection- a time when he actually feared for his life… and hers.

_There are days when it doesn't feel like the apocalypse but most days Chris feels like he's grasping at strings swinging from one to another in rapid succession praying that he can make it to the next before it snaps and he free-falls into eternal damnation. Joining Wyatt, choosing to be his right hand man, condemned him to this life but he'd lived it willingly knowing that he played an intricate roll in resurrecting redeeming qualities of his cousin._

_He and Charlie are the lifelines securing Wyatt from becoming the Source._

_The now seventeen year-old Halliwell runs opened hands over his face as he stands on the balcony overlooking the apocalyptic wasteland that was once the booming city of San Francisco. Strong arms support his toned body as he leans against the railing taking in the array of color the setting sun brought, the only piece of their world that didn't look monochromatic in nature. Even the once magnificently red bridge he'd grown accustom to standing on as a boy was painted a dark grey. _

_A few deep scars were present on his arms from battles against countless demons. He let himself believe he was making the world a better place. Instead, he was helping aid in its damnation, clearing the way for Wyatt to ascend the throne. Now he allows himself to see the picture. They're living as kings as the world around them died. He hates it but he takes it thinking that serving Wyatt meant saving Charlie… his family… he even naïvely believed he could fix Wyatt. _

_All is lost but hope remains…  
>A hope his Wyatt was still there deep within the satanic shell.<br>But he was wrong and about to find out. _

_The presence of the demonlighter is felt before she even enters his chambers- a true testimony to his belief that Charlie is his soulmate. His heart beats steadily as he turns his head to take a look at brunette studying him from his doorway only for it to break at the sight. Before he can ask who could do such a thing she's racing into his arms. Immediately they close around the broken and beaten beauty wishing to be able to heal now more than ever. Sobs fill the air as she buries her face in his charcoal grey t-shirt._

_Chris: Char, what happened?_

_The answer to his question appears in the door, bloodstained knuckles and no amount of remorse on his face. A protective instinct forces Chris to rotate a bit to block her from him. He'd lay down his life for her and with that murderous look in his cousin's eyes he might have to._

_Charlie: Wyatt's the Source. Been it for god knows how long._

_The tyrannical S.O.B played them like a children's board game, the ease of it all making both sick. The blind faith carried for their once beloved friend was all Wyatt needed to clear the throne of the Source and take his seat at the head of the demonic world. Bile rises in the teen's throat when he looks into his cousin's soulless eyes and demeanor. _

_Chris: No.  
>Wyatt: Don't face the future with fear, Christopher. Embrace it.<br>Chris: Why would I embrace a future where we are enemies?  
>Wyatt: Enemies? Oh contraire, Christopher. You, Junior, and I… with you and Henry by my side I'll have both the power of Triad and Source, complete control of the demonic world.<br>Chris: Why would I follow you?  
>Wyatt: Never known you to do anything but. <em>

_With a low huff, Chris bobs his head downward; relinquishing the grip he had on Charlie's hand and sulkily crosses the great divide of good and evil. Standing by his cousin's side, he turns to look back at a devastated Charlie. The two men in her life, the two beacons of good in her life turned their backs on the light. It wasn't possible._

_It really wasn't. _

_With a swift sweep of his wrist, Chris latches onto the wrist of the hand ready to wield the power of Excalibur against the woman he loves and drives his knee into his cousin's stomach as hard as he can. A powerful roar escapes the Source's lips as he unwillingly relinquishes his grip on the sword and double over in pain. _

_Chris: Charlie, Run! _

_A strong elbow is thrust into Chris's abdomen sending him staggering backwards. _

_Wyatt: So that's how it's going to be, Christopher?  
>Chris: It's the way it has to be.<br>Wyatt: What a shame._

_The second the words hit the air, Chris has problems getting enough of it into his lungs. It was like there was a knife in his windpipe and he knew why. Wyatt's hand balled up when he stands again a clear and present indicator that he was going to kill him. All those years would be wasted in death, his struggles for nothing. Tears fill his eyes as his hands go to his throat and though he'd never say it out loud, one word popped into his head at that moment._

_Good._

_He didn't want to live a life where he was enemies with Wyatt, a world that so many he loved were already no longer a part of. He hated this world but knew he had to fight for it. Suddenly, the death grip on his throat disappeared and he was able to breathe again. Eyes shoot up to see Wyatt in a heap on the floor and smoke rising from his shoulder where he got hit by Charlie's lightning bolt. As he groans Chris nears picking up Excalibur along the way._

_The hilt in his hand, the sheer power of the blade he knew he could easily take a life. He could kill Wyatt Halliwell and stop the whole ordeal before it began. His shaky hand presses the blade gently against his cousin's head, pulls back, and drives the sword hard… into the ground right next to his cousin's head. _

_Chris: The lines have been drawn. Just remember you CHOSE this._

A soft hand on his shoulder is the only thing keeping him steady. He hated seeing him and Wyatt almost slaughtering one another. It's barbaric. It's devastating. It's real. Slightly his head turns to look at his Momma Paige, straining to force a smile and pretend he's okay.

Piper: You betrayed him.  
>Chris: Betrayed him? I followed him so deep into the darkness it almost strangled the life out of me. He took on the title of Source. Don't you dare say that I betrayed him. He made his bed and he had to lie in it. If I'd really betrayed him I'd of jabbed Excalibur so far down his throat and saved the lives of millions. I'm still fighting for him. Not beside or against, caught in the middle being torn in two every decision I make and breath I take.<br>Piper: I'm sorry, it's just-  
>Chris: You're in denial. I get it. I just don't like it.<p>

Blue eyes scan across toward Phoebe unable to stand that they're not back in the comfort of the manor.

Chris: Why aren't we out yet? What exactly was the spell again, word for word?  
>Phoebe: We call upon this ancient power, to help us in a dark hour. Questions of good and evil ruin our peace and serenity, so help us figure out this mysterious entity.<p>

Hands run through shaggy locks as he realizes how foolish he'd been, forgetting to factor in the personal gain effects. Paige can't help but smile at the habit he has of running his hands through his hair as she eagerly waits for the conclusion he's drawn in his head.

Chris: This was all personal gain. It was selfish. You're not supposed to use personal gain.  
>Phoebe: Is now really the best time for a lecture?<br>Chris: The spell didn't work out how you wanted because it was because personal gain. You've got to figure out who I am. I'm the mysterious entity. You've got to see who I am and distinguish good and evil in your mind.  
>Paige: And how do we do that?<p>

Chris ponders the question. How do you define yourself as a human being or a magical one? How do you define who you are? His expression changes to an unreadable one as he places himself in the center of the stage and extends a hand.

Chris: I'm a sinner and a saint, a survivor and a victim, a hero and a villain, a lover and a fighter. I'm a walking contradiction and a lot of things to a lot of people: Junior's protagonist, Wyatt's antagonist, my parent's son, the resistances' leader, Charlie's fiancé. I'm just Chris.

An image flickers to life and a satisfied grin teases his lips.

They wanted Chris they were about to get Chris…

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	17. Chapter Sixteen

_The usually bright and exuberant eyes of the youngest Halliwell boy dimmed to a coffee color as he gripped the hilt of the dagger and eyed the picture of Wyatt on a dartboard. Vengeance is the only thing on the boy's mind. Wyatt took his parents forcing them to watch the horribly traumatizing moments unraveling before their very eyes._

_The BASTARD!_

_Junior couldn't wait 'til his next encounter with Wyatt. He would kill him for what he did, avenge their deaths and save the world. He'd make his parents proud. Releasing the dagger from his hand, the boy knows without a shadow of a doubt that the dagger will hit square between the eyes. That's why his surprise swells when he blinks and the daggers gone._

_A look of bewilderment crosses his face as he searches and a whole new expression takes over when he feels the tip lightly pressed against his back._

_Chris: Rule number eighteen: There's no such thing as a sure thing._  
><em>Junior: I know sensei.<em>

_For over two months, the older Halliwell watched the back of the younger, taking him under his wing and keeping his promise to his aunt. He flips the dagger so that the blade faces downward and hands it back to Junior._

_Chris: Mock me all you want but if you don't remember the rules of engagement and keep your wits about ya' you might as well run yourself through with Excalibur._  
><em>Junior: I know. I know. It's just I want him to pay so badly for what he did.<em>

_Tears form in the younger Halliwell's eyes as Chris stared numbly at the scar that wraps around his wrist from his shackles and his still recovering thumb cursing himself for not being faster and stronger… for not being able to save them. Simultaneously he finds that warrior spirit within burning brightly and his hand reaching up and comfortingly resting on his cousin's shoulder._

_Chris: Karma's a bitch, bro. He'll get what he deserves tenfold but don't let this thirst for vengeance consume you. 'Cause if you do, you're no better than he is._

_After giving the teenager's shoulder a squeeze and his sage advice, Chris starts out of the room knowing that the boy knew of his past consumption of vengeance and how it turned him into, well for a lack of a better way to put it, Wyatt's bitch. He knew that Chris wished someone gave him that advice when he was in his shoes._

_Junior: Hey Chris._  
><em>Chris: Yeah?<em>  
><em>Junior: You're better than he is. Extraordinarily so.<em>  
><em>Chris: What makes you say that?<em>  
><em>Junior: You've got something that Wyatt's never had… none of us have. You have something to prove. You want to prove to yourself that nature doesn't dominate nurture; you fight yourself every second of every day and you ultimately persevere. That's what makes you better, Chris, and that's what makes you the guy I look up to.<em>

* * *

><p><em>The tip of his coarse fingertip rubs across the image that's held in his hands as tears burn the corners of chocolate lashes. Sitting out on the balcony of Paige's apartment in the domed city, Chris Halliwell stares at the picture of his parents while sitting at the mocha brown outdoor 5-liece rattan woven dining set.<em>

_Paige: Hey handsome. Whatcha' looking at?_

_She's still as beautiful as she's ever been. Of course, there's a few new lines on her smooth porcelain skin; time does that to us all. Her wavy, shoulder length chocolate locks sway in the gentle breeze as she takes a seat next to him. He strains to force a smile and shimmers the picture away._

_Chris: It's nothing, Momma P._  
><em>Paige: *staring knowingly* Didn't look like nothing.<em>

_Chris leans forward resting his elbows on his knees and face in his hands. Though he tries his best to be guarded, to his family, Chris is an open book. Blue eyes darken with regret and he speaks in a mournful tone._

_Chris: I can't even imagine how disappointed in me they'd be._

_Brown eyes burn with emotion as her hands capture his and she wills him to look at her. When he does he sees her avidly shaking her head no._

_Paige: You listen and you listen good. Your mother and father could never be disappointed in you. They loved you unconditionally and endlessly._

_There's still doubt in his mind. She can see it in his eyes and feel it in her heart so she goes a different course._

_Paige: Wow you're so much like your parents you don't even realize it!_  
><em>Chris: Oh really? They went evil and helped a benevolent dictator take over the world?<em>  
><em>Paige: (laughs) They both had their evil moment and, if I recall correctly, tried to take over the world once or twice but that's not what I'm talking about. You've got your mother's smile and your father's laugh. You give it all you got no matter what it is, fight for what you believe in, see everybody for who they really are, and ultimately want to do the right thing. You're stubborn, sarcastic, strong, loving. You are your parents' son.<em>

_No words can describe the love and pride swelling in his heart as he wraps his arms tightly around her. He even hugged her like his mother did, Paige realizes with a bittersweet smile._

* * *

><p><em>Curious eyes disappeared behind soft eyelids draped with charcoal eyelashes. She was dreaming. She had to be. No way after seven days of freedom from Wyatt and her confessing that it's always been him she loved, was he kneeling before her in the sand holding a ring.<em>

_Or could he?_

_Slowly her eyes reemerge to see the brown haired blue eyed boy exactly where he was when she closed them._

_Chris: There's a lot I don't know. I don't know life's greatest mysteries or even a majority of its less significant ones. I don't know what's going to happen five years from now, let alone five minutes. But what I do know is that I've loved you since long before I knew what love was and will continue to do so forever and always regardless of how you answer this question, though for what it's worth, I really hope you say yes. Charlotte Genevieve Gracin-Chase, will you marry me?_

_Her smile widens to face splitting proportions and she drops to her knees capturing his lips in the most passionate, life altering kiss he'd ever or will ever experience. Strong arms wrap around her waist and pull her down into the sand where he rested on his forearms above her simply beaming when he comes up for air._

_Chris: So I guess that's a yes, Pretty girl?_  
><em>Charlie: No.<em>

_Both eyes narrowed in a squint, searching her face for a sign to betray her words but finding none. He frowns pulling back a bit and going to ask her a question but her stoic façade falters and she lets out a little laugh that makes him melt back down atop her._

_Charlie: It's an absolutely._

_Without another word he slips the ring on her finger and scoops her up into his arms. Legs straddle his waist as he races off into the ocean and waves crash against them and they collapse into the depths lips locked and inseparable._

* * *

><p>Now images flash erratically before them and before they know it there's a lifetime piling up before them until the walls flicker around them like a computer shorting out until everything abruptly fades to black.<p>

* * *

><p>Into the upright situation, a majority of the party shot as if being physically torn from the young halfbreed's memory. A majority of the Charmed Ones breathed a sigh of relief. A majority. The rest didn't fare so well. The lone Charmed One that didn't breathe a sigh of relief was the one that immediately noticed the soul that wasn't lucky enough to have escaped.<p>

Paige: Oh my God, Chris!

Rigid jerking movements and the shivering his body produces during his catatonic state as beads of sweat pour from his pores matting his hair to his forehead and causes clothes to cling to his body horrifies the fiery redhead. Scrambling to her feet, Paige moves towards the halfbreed kicking one of the crystals clear across the room along the way. Down onto her knees she falls resting his head on her lap and begins to gently stroke his hair and whisper soothing words.

Paige: Shhh… it's okay. Momma Paige's got you.

Her two older siblings watch the nurturing side of their sister shine brightly. There's no hesitation in her voice when she says Momma Paige, or actions. She looks more maternal in that instant than any of them had ever been. She already loved that boy as if he were her own and, though their hearts bled for his strife, neither found themselves with the right to do the same.

Paige: (whisper) Power of three. (aloud) The power of three will set you free. (to her sisters) Guys help me. The Power of Three will set you free.  
>Phoebe: The Power of Three will set you free.<br>Piper: The Power of Three will set you free.  
>All: The Power of Three will set you free.<p>

When his eyes finally do open again, they flutter open and closed multiple times as if trying to adjust to the harshness of reality's light. After a few blinks, the shadowy figure hovering over him contradicting the light takes the shape of Paige.

Paige: Good morning sleeping beauty.  
>Chris: Ugh… the only thing good about this morning is that it's over.<br>Phoebe: We're glad you're okay.

The kindness he shows to his Aunt Paige is lost on the rest of the Halliwell line. Bright blue eyes dull to an angry navy as he shots upright and stares disbelievingly.

Chris: Yeah, no thanks to you. There's a reason I keep them buried. They're toxic- poisoning my mind and could quite literally kill me.  
>Piper: Why didn't you tell us before?<br>Chris: You didn't give me a chance. Congratulations, I've gained your trust but you've lost mine.

Getting to his feet he pulls Paige up acting like they're the only two left in the world. Once he's done pulling her up he give her a quick hug and kisses her temple.

Chris: I gotta go inform Char of recent events then, if it's okay with you, we'll stop by.  
>Paige: Of course, it's okay.<p>

A legitimate smile crosses the halfbreed's face right before he shimmers out and leaves the Halliwell women alone (Cole shimmered out the moment he awoke).

Phoebe: I feel horrible.  
>Piper: Me too, there's got to be a way to get him to like us.<br>Paige: (starting to leave room) Yeah, good luck with that.  
>Piper: Where are you going?<p>

With the roll of her eyes Paige turns to face her sister still annoyed with the personal torture that her older sisters put Chris through.

Paige: He already likes me.

* * *

><p>As eyes drift down to hardened hands that grip the cool, metallic rail before him, Chris takes a deep breath and expels a very heavy sigh into the tropical air. The reality of their betrayal weighs down his heart and he feels like it's in his toes. Eyes shut tightly as he tries to hang on until Charlie got back from shopping for potion ingredients.<p>

When the sound of shimmering behind him sounds the halfbreed breathes a sigh of relief only to inhale a sharp gasp of shock. Before him is Cole Turner with, what was that tearstains on his cheeks? No his dad didn't cry.

Chris: Whataya' want Cole?  
>Cole: Since when does a father need a reason to see his son?<p>

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	18. Chapter Seventeen

S.R. Bolin  
><em>presents<em>  
>Someone to Save You<br>**A Charmed Fanfiction**

_Summary: "You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, cousin." Join the wildcard warrior as he travels back to protect his promise. Au. RevelationFic._

**Chapter Seventeen**

Fight or flight? It's a question that's usually not even a question in his book but there're rare moments in his life, rare moments like this one where it becomes a question. Fight or Flight?

His baby blues meet the almost identical ones of his fathers and he chooses the answer he's found himself choosing more and more with each pressing scenario. Flight. Run. Shimmer. Get the hell out of dodge. But before he can act on the words, the strong hands of the veteran fighter latched onto his arms tightly to keep him grounded, staying two steps ahead of his son.

Cole: Oh no you don't. Talk to me Chris. Tell me the truth.  
>Chris: You can't handle the truth! (<em>I can't handle the truth.)<em>

Cole could read between the lines and as much as he wanted… no needed to hear the truth from his son, he knew that prying the words from a boy that inheritated his stubborness was impossible and coddling him would only infuriate him. So he settles knowing that as much as he wanted to know, that Phoebe would die if she found out and her sweet baby boy hated her.

Cole: At least go make peace with Phoebe.  
>Chris: Yeaaahhh, I'm not ready to make nice just yet.<br>Cole: Suck it up, she's your mother and she's hurting. That is unless you don't care.

Frustration ripples through the boy and his anger fizzes over the edges taking him whole. In a shimmer, the halfbreed dissappears causing the older man to let out a sigh of frustration but before he can completely get it out, the figure shimmers in behind him wrapping his arm around the neck of his father. His voice is gruff and dangerously low when he speaks.

Chris: Everytime I see her, I memorize every detail: what she's wearing, the way she smells, her mood. EVERYTHING… because I never know when it'll be the last time I see her. Don't you dare tell me for a second that I don't care about her you demonic P.O.S.

Roughly the halfbreed pushes his father forwards and lets the venom in his veins fuel his posture- every line screaming 'I wanna kill you'. Aggravated, Chris slams his fist into the table instead and meets the eyes of his father as he turns back around to see Chris.

Chris: If I feint forgiveness, I don't have to call you daddy and pretend that we're a happy little family. You tell Phoebe nothing.  
>Cole: You have my word.<br>Chris: Then we have a deal.  
>Cole: Should we shake on it?<p>

Blue eyes darken considerably as he tightens his lips to a thin straight line giving Cole his answer.

Cole: It's okay, son. When you get over that hate is safer than love psychobabble bullshit, you know where to find me.

xXx

Amber liquid swirls within the plain glass, bubbling with warm aroma as it's poured. It's not his first glass, or his second, probably not even his third by the time she returns from her errands. He's sitting between the island and the cubboards- back against the cubbards and feet pressed up against the island. His glass is firmly placed in his hand and the bottle by his side.

Charlie: Yikes, what the hell happened to you?

She knows that Chris hates alcohol for what it made of his father… staring at the bottom of the bottle was like staring down the barrel of a gun to him. Taking a place by his side she rests her head on his shoulder, taking the bottle of Jack from his side followed by a rather large swig.

Chris: Oh, the usual- me trying so hard to protect them and getting a kick in the crotch for my effort.  
>Charlie: Wanna elaborate so I know whose ass I need to kick.<p>

He smiles at her but it's weak, forced. Last time, it took Chris the deaths of an entire populous for him to feel this bad.

Chris: I wanna tell you everything Char, really I do. I just… can't right now.

Her heart breaks at the breathless struggle in his words. The usually articulate Chris Halliwell stumbling over words was never a good sign. Setting aside the bottle, she leans closer into him resting her head on his shoulder. His arm extends to encompass her but his eyes never leave the cabinents of the island area infront of him.

Charlie: Everything'll be okay. (noticing the way his shoulders sag at her reassurance.) Won't it?  
>Chris: I don't know Char. I just really… don't know.<p>

xXx

_Crash!_ Glass shatters upon being struck by a lightning bolt, bursting into tiny fragments. Harsh particles rained down onto the polished wooden planks of the hardwood flooring. An unprevoked laughter bubbles within the halfbreed as he stares at the furious brunette before him obviously not taking the news of his fieldtrip well. It isn't until then that he spills over with laughter

Chris: No, not the vase. It'was innocent in all this!  
>Charlie: That's just a preview for what's in store for them once I get my hands on them!<br>Chris: Okays.

He crosses the room and slopily grabs her by the arms. Then their eyes lock and it's almost as if there's a fire burning behind his baby blues causing them to smoulder with a seriousness that defies intoxication.

Chris: No seriously, Char. Let's go blow 'em straight to hell. Erase any chance of Wy and I screwing up the future by erasing us entirely. My god! It's sheer brilliance.  
>Charlie: Don't be ridiculous!<br>Chris: …Not as ridiculous as being angry about things we cannot change.

Leave it to Chris to use the sarcastic art form to twist an idea until it breaks. Combine it with logic and she didn't stand a chance. Her anger dissipates until it's nonexistent and she fights the smile fighting to emerge on her face.

Chris: They did what they did. We just gotta look at the positives.  
>Charlie: And the positives would be?<br>Chris: We get to go see Momma P.

Before the brunette could protest, the halfbreed throws her over his shoulder and shimmers into the attic of the Halliwell manor smiling from ear to ear. An impromptu urge comes over the young Halliwell as he cups his free hand over his mouth and shouts.

Chris: Honey, we're home!  
>Charlie: Would you put me down!<p>

Reluctantly, he sets her down and she immediately scans the room for an exit. That was Charlie Gracin since the day he met her. Beautifully broken. She takes her licks and keeps on ticking but when a moment comes like this comes… a moment where she's completely vulnerable and she feels the need to hide.

What if Paige doesn't love her like her future counterpart?  
>What if she rejects her entirely?<p>

There's a moment when your put up on stage infront of the world- truly vulnerable. And in that moment we find what we're made of. Charlie doesn't know what will unfold when the soft footfalls from below make it upstairs but she has the courage to stand. To let her vulnerability shine. He leans in in the last possible second and whispers in her ear before planting a stolen kiss on her cheek followed by shimmering to beside the door so he'd go unnoticed

Chris: She's gonna love you Char. What's not to love?

She smiles at him, one of those smiles he swears are only for him. Then her eyes move to the woman standing frozen in the doorway looking at her like it's the first time. In a sense it was, the first time in a new light. Charlie slightly fidgets under the newly dyed brunette before her. The long chocolate locks she knew for all her life were on Paige and for the first time she sees her mom again- the woman that loved her whole-heartedly and unconditionally like mothers should.

Charlie: Mom.

The word escapes her lips in an unintentional hushed whisper but their like a magnet. The moment the word escapes her lips Paige crosses the attic and throws her arms around the girl fighting to hold it together. Then Charlie lets herself lean into the embrace clinging to the woman that braided her hair, taught her how to control magic, and she idolized with an unwavering desperation.

That's how the two elder sisters find them, wrapped in one another's embrace without the slightest hint of moving anytime soon. From behind extended arms wrap around each woman's shoulder and their heads snap to see Chris looking on the same scene, a slight smiled etched at the corners of his lips.

Chris: Tugs at the heartstrings, doesn't it.

Their attention moves back to their kid sister wholeheartedly jumping into the role that Chris and Charlie saw her as and silently wonder if they'd have done the same. Suddenly Phoebe is concerned for the man next to her. When he speaks there's a haunted tone almost as if he's yearning for something he knows he cannot have.

Phoebe: Why aren't you involved in the family hug-a-thon?  
>Chris: Because as much as I want it to be truth, as much as I love those two, Momma Paige isn't my mom… not like she was to Charlie and Junior anyways.<p>

He stares another moment before taking his mother and aunt down into kitchen with him in an easy shimmer. Immediately he stumbles over to the table feeling his head spinning from too much movement then looked up at curious eyes.

Chris: We should give them some time alone. Char's been waiting to have her mom back for years.  
>Piper: How can you do it?<br>Chris: (slightly confused) Do what?  
>Phoebe: Talk to us like we're not absolutely horrible for what we did to you.<p>

He rolls up the sleeves of his orange AE hoodie that Phoebe bought him and rests his arms crossed on the table eyeing them beneath furrowed brows.

Chris: Don't worry about it.  
>Piper: No, Chris. You never gave us a chance to apologize.<br>Chris: Did you ever think I don't want an apology?

The words snap off his tongue, cracking at them like a whip. He's no fool. He knows their apologies will ease their guilt more than they'll make him feel better and he doesn't want that. Espcially because he know he'll say he forgives them. He'll pretend everything's alright while it festers within him coroading his heart until there's nothing left. He doesn't want that. He desperately wants things to vanish.

Chris: I don't want a freakin' apology.  
>Phoebe: Well, what do you want?<br>Chris: I want you to stop acting so damn concerned- to forget about me- and focus on saving Wyatt. (standing up from the table and staggering into the living room) Is that too much to ask? Jeez!

With his head hung back he lets out a groan and orbs upstairs realizing the brilliant plan hidden in his tirade. Immediately the intoxicated halfbreed stumbles over to the podium and begins flipping through the pages of the Book of Shadows feverishly ignoring Charlie and Paiges' curiosity bombarding him until he finds it.

Chris: Ah hah!

Blue irises rapidly scan the ingredients list multiple times, the alcohol in his system imparing his usually stellar reading abilities. Giving up he remembers a spell Wyatt taught him as a shortcut that got them in hot water at magic school.

Chris: To set things into motion, find me the ingredients for this potion.

As the ingredients hover he flicks his hands in a motion that mimics the all too familiar one of Piper Halliwell in rapid sucession freezing potion one after another in mid air until they're all frozen. Quickly he brings them to him telekinetically, lining them up along the bowl before him until a hand pulls him back roughly.

Chris: Char, what the hell?  
>Charlie; I could ask you the same thing. The word personal gain ring a bell.<br>Chris: Several but this is important.

He grabs Paige gently by the arm and drags her over to the bowl and bringing the book to them through telekinesis.

Chris: Read the incantation and toss the mandrake root into the potion. Easy peasy.

Brown irises scan over the forgive and forget spell, knowing not to read the spell aloud until she knows what it does. And good thing to. As the last lines are absorbed into her brain, his plan becomes all to aparent. It's a potion of deciete and lies, a potion to erase the past twenty four hours to all those that fall prey to it. He wanted them to forget. Why! She had to find out.

Paige: You want us to forget?  
>Chris: God no. Not you. Just Cole, Phoebe, and Piper.<br>Paige: No, Chris. As much as you wish we didn't see those memories, we're glad that we did. We needed to see those to know what we're up against, to know you, to trust you, to love you!

Anger surges through him and he falls prey to irrationality. Words fizzle within him, snapping and popping 'til they go out into the air rolling off his tounge before he can reach out and erase them.

Chris: You should have to see my memories to trust me, to love me. I'm their son. They should automatically love me. It should be encoded in their freakin' DNA or something, for Christ's sake!

A loud, audible gasp escapes his aunt's lips from sheer shock. Her nephew? The son of Phoebe and Cole? The offences he's charged them with become all the more daunting as connections were made. Every accusation hurrled at him becomes all the more furocious and devestating. How would she take the assault from her sister's and Cole? The mistrust? The harsh words? How could he handle it? Then it hit her. He can't.

There's a haunting presence on his shoulders driving him to drink, to fight, to lie. He's been burned, crumpled, cut, and torn like a piece of paper, put through the ringer and she cannot bare see him further hurt by the people he calls family.

Paige: Give me the mandrake root.  
>Chris: I thought you were against this potion.<br>Paige: Not if it's going to save one of my favorite nephews.

**Hello my loyal readers who hopefully don't want to strangle me for my lack of updates as of late. I was planning on waiting for my sixith review but it never came and it wasn't fair to wait another moment to my loyal readers that've reviewed, those who have favorited, and those who've subscribed to alerts. Sorry again and don't forget to Reiveiw**

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	19. Chapter Eighteen

x5urf_th3_3dg3  
><em>presents<em>  
>Someone to Save You<br>**A Charmed Fanfiction**

_Summary: "You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, cousin." Join the wildcard warrior as he travels back to protect his promise. Au. RevelationFic._

**Chapter Eighteen**

There's an animosity in the air sucking up all the oxygen in the room and leaving its inhabitants unable to speak, words dying on their lips before they're even produced into the dead air. Blue eyes baring familial bonds bore into one another as Chris and Cole stare each other down praying the other would cease and desist before there's no going back. But they knew better, their stubborness monumentous in nature.

A hand with fingers wrapped tightly around the potion vial extends high into the air and his eyes never leave his fathers. Both know what the potion in his hand means. One downward thrust and their connection will be burried in the dark.

Just one moment will change everything…

xXx

_Twenty Minutes Earlier._

Christopher Halliwell stands on the balcony of their tropical escape with the curtains billowing out behind him holding the three vials in his hand that he calls the game changers. Just three throws and their adventures in memory land will be long forgotten for them. Unable to look at them any longer, he slips them into the pocket of his jeans.

Fingers move through his shaggy mane and rest on the back of his head as he decided he's not the one one to blame for his actions. They forced him into this by doing the unthinkable. Our minds, our memories, their private. If they were ment to be seen by the rest of the world then they would be. Frustration takes control slamming his fists down hard into the railing.

Then he closes his eyes, the saddened man turning into a sad little boy. No. Not a sad little boy. If he were, then his mother or one of his aunts would be there to wipe his tears. They'd be there for him instead of thursting him into eternal damnation. Back then, his world was filled in infinte possiblities and nobody'd betray him. Not his parents. Paige. Piper. Leo. Wyatt.

Long arms slink around his waist shaking him from his musing and he feels her mold perfectly into him as he wraps an arm around to encompass her and she rests her head on his bare chest. He could hold her like this forever, forgetting the world around them but knows he cannot allow himself. For a moment he allows himself to though, holding tightly breathing in the scent of her shampoo and pressing a kiss into it.

Chris: Do you trust me?

She lifts her head off his chest and turns to occupy the space between him with her hands against his chest. Baby blue eyes curiously scan him and her lips answer without hesitation.

Charlie: Of course I do. And to answer the real question, I trust that you think what you're doing is for the best.

Plato philosophized that once, a long, long time ago, all people had four legs and two heads. And then the gods threw down thunderbolts and split everyone into two. Each half then had two legs and one head. But the separation left both sides with a desperate yearning to be reunited because they each shared the same soul. And ever since then, all people spend their lives searching for the other half of their soul.

It is in that moment that he believes Plato must've been right because the girl infront of him is his other half. He found it. The sparks of a soul mate, the lightning preluded by the thunderbolt millennia ago, lie within the young couple and with that, he knows there's no situation they cannot overcome. They'll make it through.

His hands slide down the slender waist of the brunette and he looks into those baby blues knowing that no matter what he does, he'll never look like any less of a hero in those blue eyes. Never. He'll always be her other half.

Chris: I love you, Charlie Gracin-Chase.  
>Charlie: And I love you too, Christopher Turner-Halliwell.<p>

The beauty and grace of her smile sends the middle Halliwell boy into a tailspin. There was no stopping him from pressing her against the railing and delivering a passionate kiss to those sensually perfect lips, not that he wanted to be stopped. He hungrily consumed her wanting, no needing, all of her now.

Slender fingers move up the nape of his neck into dark tresses as bursts of cinnamon bombarded his tongue and in turn his calloused fingertips move from her hips and begin to explore her back. He wants all of her, no needs it but needs to know that she's all his forever.

A hand slips cooly off her back and into his pocket only to leave it with a little surprise pinched between his thumb and index finger. Forcing himself to break the kiss he more than makes up for by lifting his fingers up to reveal his mother's engagement ring.

Chris: Ya' know, you slipped this into my hand and I've been carrying it with me ever since, waiting for the perfect time to slip it back onto that pretty little finger of yours because just like this ring, my home is whereever you are. Will you be my fiance… again, Char?

There's no hesitation in her answer. Yes. He knew it would be. It was always meant to be but hearing her say it made him the luckiest man alive. Witout hesitation he takes the hand still wearing Wyatt's ring and uses pressurization to blow it straight to hell where it belonged and effortlessly slips his ring back onto her finger, capturing her lips with his the moment it's on.

Massive hands cup the brunette's face as he pulls her in, kissing her again… a bit slower, more sensually before he hears the clock strike midnight and their fairytale must be put on pause so that he can do the unthinkable.

Chris: The cove. One hour. I'll bring the champange.

With that he presses another kiss to her lips and shimmers out, always leave her wanting more.

xXx

_Five minutes earlier_

Cole Turner sat at his desk staring at the list of things he knew about Chris. It was mere pages instead of an entire notebook and filled with so many general adjectives like smart and nice that could apply to just about the notebook of ivory paper with college ruled lines in his hand, he stares at it a moment before disgustedly throwing it over his shoulder.

Exhaling, Cole leans back in his leather office chair finding solace in the fact he must have been an okay dad… afterall his future counterpart raised hell of a kid, a beacon of light instead of darkness. He's pulled out of his prideful musings by the chime of elevator doors and heavy footfalls treading across the floor until they come to a sudden halt.

Deciding to not leave hisguest waiting any longer. He moves up to the door and is about to go out into the great room when he sets sights on his son traisping a delicate hand over the brand new pool table occupying the center of the room with his back to his father. He's greatful that his boy is not alert to his presence yet because it gives him a chance to quietly indulge in a few moments of observing his son as he moved his lanky frame the length of the table never taking his fingers off.

Cole: You just gonna stare at it or do you wanna play?

Chris turns his head to face his fatherand he allows a smile to tug at the corners of his lips before he forces himself to squander it.

Chris: Unfortunately, I'm not here for games.  
>Cole: C'mon. It'll be fun son.<p>

His father calling him son would on any other occasion, in any other time would bring a smile to his face. Not now though. Now it just complicates what'll eventually come and what's already happened between the two men. Slowly, his head shakes no back and forth as he lets the words he keeps telling himself get voiced.

Chris; Don't call me that. My father was a good man. You may look like him, sound, and one day even be him but in the present, you're not him. As of right now, you're just another hitch in my plan that needs resolving.

Blue eyes suspiciously narrow in on Chris. The way he speaks the words lack certainty and come out in a rehearsed tone that makes him curious.

Cole: Oh, and how do you plan on resolving me, Christopher?

A hand dips into the pocket of his jeans and pulls out one of the three vials containing a blood red substance flashing it proudly to his father.

Chris: This little bad boy right here. One throw and you'll forget all about our little trip down memory lane. Then you can go back to, well for lack of a better way of saying it, pining over mother and feeling sorry for yourself.  
>Cole: (swallowing and bracing himself a bit) Okay.<br>Chris: Okay?

The questioning nature of the words assults his lips and spills into the air before he can stifle them. He didn't know what he expected but it wasn't surrender. His dad would fight tooth and nail to not lose his memories. He'd take that vial in Chris's hand and blow it to smitherines… even this Cole he expected a fight out of not complete submissiveness.

Shrugging his shoulders the man slips his hands into his pockets and locks eyes with his son. It hurt like hell to know his son didn't want him to remember but this is the first thing Chris asked him to do and he can't refuse him.

Cole: If it's really what you want then who am I to stop you. You said it yourself, I'm not your dad yet… but for what it's worth, I just want to say I'm proud that I'll be able to call you son someday.

xXx

_There's an animosity in the air sucking up all the oxygen in the room and leaving its inhabitants unable to speak, words dying on their lips before they're even produced into the dead air. Blue eyes baring familial bonds bore into one another as Chris and Cole stare each other down praying the other would cease and desist before theirs no going back. But they knew better, their stubborness monumentous in nature._

_A hand with fingers wrapped tightly around the potion vial extend high into the air and his eyes never leave his fathers. Both know what the potion in his hand means. One downward thrust and their connection will be burried in the dark. _

_Just one moment will change everything…_

xXx

Now.

He feels his arm thrust downard, sees his father's eyes tighten shut, but nothing happens. Confused his eyes move down to see his hand was still gripping the vial so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. He couldn't do it. He couldn't burry their connection, make his father forget. He just couldn't.

A curious eye emerges from beneath its lid while the other stays securely closed until he's sure Chris can't go through with it. Then he opens both eyes, and pats his son on the shoulder on his way to the pool stick rack mounted on the wall behind it.

Cole: I'll break.

xXx

Slender fingers delicately pull the petals from the roses in her other hand and lets them flutter down into the sand making a trail from the entry of the cave to the bistrostyled table adorning a white table cloth that matches the white almost stransparent fabrics that're hung from the ceiling giving it a classic romance feeling as they billow.

Knowing that Chris was going through a hard time, she decided to go over the top with their night orbing to a quaint little café in Italy for his favorite fettichini alfredo and deviliously sinful choclate cake with four different types of chocolate. She remembers one night lying in bed after he came back to the resistance from a mission and only had an hour with her before he had to report his findings. As he slipped into his boxers and was forced out of bed he wished that they could for just once be a normal couple and now she's determined to give him that even if it's just for one night.

As the last petal falls she discards the stem and runs her hands over her white strapless, knee length dress to straighten out the rumples it'd aquired. She was "drop dead gorgeous like heart skip a beat material" as Chris would put it. Her hairs curled into loose spirals with her bangs clipped back into a poof and her makeup as flawless as he believes she is. But what she loves most about her outfit and appearance is the angel pendant around her neck and a rock on her finger back in their rightful places. A smile tugs at her lips everytime she even looks down at her finger knowing that she belongs to him for all eternity. She missed it being on her finger more than he knew and that smile only grows when she sees a silhouette moving behind one of the white curtainsin her direction.

Charlie: Hey babe, I hope you're hungry.

Her moment of happiness turns terribly tragic as the man behind the curtain reveals himself, the face of a man that certainly isn't Chris.

Demon: Starvin' actually.

The cool crisp monotone echoes into the air sending the fiesty brunette charging forward to make him regret daring to darken her day. She moves with a lethal agility, determined to end the life of the man that'd made hers a living hell for the longest time but she had forgotten how brutal the man could be and that she and Chris magic proofed the cove. Her hands don't glow that lethal glow taking her by surprise and losing her competitive edge.

The man growls slamming her tiny frame up against the wall, Charlie coughing as she hit rock with a force she knows she cannot match. But she knows that if she can escape out the door she can light the bastard up. Sliding to the ground, she kicks out her right leg and connects with his ankles bringing him to the ground as well. On her hands and knees, she crawls with sheer determination pushing her forward. Phalanges grip her ankle as cold as death's grip and reels her in. Ontop of her he climbs balled fists slamming hard into her face.

Bam. Boom. Pop.

The sounds of her childhood echoes as her face explodes with fire. In desperation she drives her head into his thick skull dazing him slightly. Then she fights dirty, driving her knee into his groin. She wasn't going to let him win, a promise she made to herself the day they vanquished his sorry ass.

She springs up like a bunny rabbit and immediately slams immediately drives the heel of her stiletto into his abdomen repetitively, letting herself be consumed by the hatred she's harbored for him over her life time. To say she hated him was an understatement. The man was the monster in her closet, the villain to her fairytale.

She knows the rules of engagement when it comes to battle but when it comes to this man she can't fight rational. Emotion takes control stopping her from running. An arm wrapstightly around the back of her leg driving her downward to her knees. Then without any hesitancy the man pulls a knife from it's holster and drives it into the stomach of the beauitful brunette.

An anguished gasp slams through the air as she drops onto the ground clutching her abdomen. The sand feels as cold as the man before her. Rolling onto her back, she brings her hands around the hilt but the man is quick to pull it out refusing to let her have even a moment of relief. Her fingers hungrily run through the sand in a last ditch effort to save herself. Then, she closes her eyes and forces herself to concentrate on her breathing until she feels hands cup her face roughly and hears his voice again.

Charlie: Don't worry, sweetheart. You're not going to die now. Daddy's got big plans for his little girl.

xXx

Chris ran a hand through his shortened mane feeling naked. It wasn't that he loved his shaggy hair it was simply that he let it through neglagence. But a bet was a bet and he learned quickly that he should never promise his father whatever the man wanted in exchange for a bottle of his finest champange. Though he did have to agree his shag had gotten so out of control he started to looke like a girl. Besides Charlie'd love it.

Walking up into the cove hoping to have a magical night with his fiance quickly changes when he notices the blood tarnishing the beautiful white petals trailing up to the table. Then he sees something that causes the champange to slip from his hands and drop to the floor.

Slopply scribbled in the sand is the word help.

**Gasp! Charlie's been kidnapped by her father no less! Wanna read more?**  
><strong>You know what to do!<strong>  
><strong>(and thanks to all those who reviewed on my last chapter Rosesofallkinds, anon, Ryujin65, crlnclyn<strong>

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	20. Chapter Nineteen

x5urf_th3_3dg3  
><em>presents<em>  
>Someone to Save You<br>**A Charmed Fanfiction**

_**Summary**__: "You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, cousin." Join the wildcard warrior as he travels back to protect his promise. Au. RevelationFic.  
><em>_**Author's Note: IMPORTANT NOTICE! A really amazing person went out of her way to make a youtube video trailer for S2SY. The Trailer URL is in my profile page so make sure you check it out!**_

**Chapter Nineteen**

Leo Wyatt was lying in bed with his fingers rubbing small circles on her stomach as he looks at her adoringly while she sleeps. It's so peculiar to see her content and at peace considering tomorrow she'll be hell on heels, ready to kill him for using his abilities to make her sleep. It was worth it though.

He knew with everything they'd witnessed and feeling guilty for "acting like a hormonal bitch and tearing into the whitelighter to sooth her denial" as she put it, sleep wasn't going to come naturally and with what she was saying, she'd need her rest. They had a lifetime worth of battles to ensure that their baby boy didn't turn evil.

Boy.

He was going to have a son. Despite the news, momentous joy came as he imagined playing catch and all the father son bonding that'll come with. But suddenly that joy disappears.

Leo: What the—

He feels the sensation of food being pushed to the forefront of his mouth. Gagging he hangs over the edge of the bed feeling his chest imploding. His skin feels like its shrinking and a large throbbing pounded against his temples with a stabbing intensity. Trembles and icy shivers raced down his body to the tips of his phalanges. Coldness settled inside the growing pressure settling over his chest.

What was happening to him?

He couldn't decide if death was finally taking him or if he was having a severe heart attack. Salty liquid rushed down his cheeks from burning sockets. Sobs released from quivering lips into the world. Weakness and desperation caused him to cry out awaking the pregnant Piper from her slumber.

Immediately, holding him supportively but not stifling her curiosity.

Piper: Leo, what in the world!  
>Leo: A… A charge is hurting.<p>

xXx

Moments later they find themselves outside of the entrance to a small cove listening to the primal growls of anger emanating from within. Taking Piper's hand, Leo cautiously leads her into the cove trying to overpower the pain exploding in his chest.

Whoever was calling to him, need him desperately.

Peeking his head around the corner he sees a man with a long white sleeve henley tearing at white fabric suspended from the ceiling flipping over a bistro styled table, destroying anything and everything in his way. When it's all gone, he beats his fist mercilessly against the cave wall until he collapses into it. His left hand moves to grab his forehead to fight the adrenaline bombarding his temples and he turns enough for the couple to get a good look at Chris's face.

Piper: (whispering) Chris.  
>Leo: Wait here.<p>

To her dismay, Leo moves forward into the cave leaving her standing there to watch. He treads forward across the sand in a casual fashion and squats down beside him. There's a broken, thousand mile stare in the halfbreed's eyes as- the stare of a broken down man that may have just lost everything. And even when he finally notices the man's presence, he speaks in a broken monotone of a whisper.

Chris: Leave me 'lone.  
>Leo: Not this time, Chris. Not when you're in so much pain it nearly cripples me.<p>

Eyes flash over to Leo and lips hollowly apologize before looking back to the blood smear on the floor. There was just so much blood, blood of the woman he loves. He could even smell that metallic texture in the air. Wiping a bloody knuckled hand over his face, he sits there numbly listening to Leo say soothing words.

Leo: It's alright, Chris. Everything's alright.

Words slither in and out of the halfbreed's ears as the promise he'd made, broken, and remade only to be broken again sticks firmly in place. Biting his lips as tears burn in his eyes, a look of sheer determination finds its way onto his features.

Chris: Nothing'll be alright 'til she's back in my arms.

xXx

During their conversation, his names being brought up in another. Phoebe didn't know why she ended up at Cole's but she did and to her surprise she found a clean cut and more or less sober, Cole Turner. (He had a beer or two playing pool and bonding with his boy) They stumble around casual conversation until she finally asks the question plaguing her mind.

Chris: Have you seen Chris?  
>Cole: Nope. Haven't seen him.<p>

It's a lie. She could always tell when he was lying. Loving him and knowing him this long gave her that much. A fit of rage forces the brunette to hit him on the shoulder and blurt out he's a liar.

Cole: Am not.  
>Phoebe: Are too! You're nostrils flare when you lie.<br>Cole: How could you possibly know that?  
>Phoebe: Because I know you, Cole.<p>

Frustrated, she turns to leave but Cole catches her hand to hold her in place. He doesn't want her mad at him, especially if it means compromising the birth of his boy. His son. The good one. Man, he just couldn't get over that.

Cole: Alright, alright. We kicked back a few drinks and shot some pool.

Pool and beer…

Why was he snapping at them and drinking beer and playing pool with Cole? It didn't make sense to her. He was there too! He doubted Chris. So why were they buddy buddy all of a sudden?

Phoebe: I don't understand.  
>Cole: What's confusing about beer and pool? Oh wait, did you call it billiards?<p>

A witty retort is on her tongue when she hears the distinct sound shimmering followed by the desperate cry of the halfbreed. One word. That's all it takes to change the entire atmosphere of the room and tone of the conversation.

Chris: Dad!

He rounds the corner from the office that'd one day be his bedroom and instantly freezes when he sees his mother's eyes flashing back and forth between him and Cole fumbling over words like the concept had blown her mind. Breathing a sigh, Chris crosses his arms over his chest and silently wonders if today could get any worse.


	21. Chapter Twenty

x5urf_th3_3dg3  
><em>presents<em>  
>Someone to Save You<br>**A Charmed Fanfiction**

_**Summary**__: "You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, cousin." Join the wildcard warrior as he travels back to protect his promise. Au. RevelationFic.  
><em>_**Author's Note: IMPORTANT NOTICE! A really amazing person went out of her way to make a youtube video trailer for S2SY. The Trailer URL is in my profile page so make sure you check it out!**_

**Chapter Twenty**

Phoebe: Dad! (looking up at Cole) You're his Dad!

Her disbelieving shrieks echo into the atmosphere seemingly sucking all the precious oxygen in the room. Trembling hands cover her mouth as conclusions are drawn beneath the revelation. He's the father of the brave, bold, and brilliant halfbreed that stood before her with chocolaty locks and mannerisms that could very well coincide with the name Halliwell.

And Cole… Cole said he'd only love one woman for the rest of his life, one woman… her. Though she hated to admit it, she knew that no matter how much she tried to shield it, there was always a Cole shaped weakness in her heart. Maybe he'd gotten to her again in the future and maybe she was staring at the life created by the bond. She removes her hands from her lips and speaks in a level tone that defies the torrent of conflicting emotions that have over taken her features.

Phoebe: Who's your mother, Chris?

Those icy blue eyes, that are unmistakably a genetic marker of Cole's paternity, are still dilated by shock and critically scanning her but his lips don't dare move in response. The response comes in from behind her taking her off guard.

Cole: It's not you, Phoebe.

She snaps back to look at him with disbelief in her eyes but his expression is as stony and somber as can possibly be. Questioning nature flashes again and she realizes that she's torn between wanting it to be true and being pleased it's not. But again his voice hits her with force.

Cole: You asked me to let you go. Don't look so surprised that I actually did. (attention back to Chris) What is it you need, son.

Chris hesitates a moment equally relieved and dissatisfied by the moment occurring. It takes him a minute to realize he's been asked a question and another minute to remember the urgency of the other situation at hand.

Chris: Someone took Char.

xXx

Heavy boots thud across the hardwood of the attic navigating carefully between unconscious parents, aunts, and an uncle over to the circle of candles in the center of the room. He didn't want to slip them a sleeping potion but they stood in his way saying it was too dangerous… too risky. They didn't seem to understand that he'd do anything to bring her back… that he'd always come for her no matter the danger. Besides it was only the To Find a Lost Love spell.

What's the worst that could happen?

Chris: "Here goes nothing…

'Wither My Love  
>Wherever You Be<br>Through Time  
>And Space<br>Take My Heart  
>Nearer To Thee'"<p>

xXx

The strong stench of sulfur in the air almost muted out the stench of burning demon corpses… almost. Eyes scan across the stifling environment until he finds Charlie illuminated by the dim glow of the single florescent light hanging overhead. He stumbles through the darkness and what he can only assume is demon guts, goo, well actually all parts demon until he makes it to his fiancé trying desperately to remove the thick shackle from her ankle.

Hearing him coming close her hands lite up that glowing blue that vaguely reminds him of orbing and it is then that he can see the bruising and lacerations that plagued her body. He'd seen people in Wyatt's torture chambers with far less damage.

Charlie: Stay back!  
>Chris: Wha- Char it's me.<br>Charlie: Yeah, and they were who they said they were too.

There's this unedited rage exploding from her mouth, venom spewing with each and every word so uncharacteristic from her. Cerulean orbs methodically search his surroundings finding that a majority of the demons in the room of a thousand corpses were monsters with mucus covered partially translucent skin and misshapen heads. Brows that'd been furrowed in confusion suddenly skyrocket up his forehead in realization.

Shape-shifters.

Whoever kidnapped Charlie was trying to break her, mental warfare their game plan. Something told him, something tragic just beneath her eyes that she'd had to kill shape-shifters giving the illusion of everyone Charlie's ever known, constantly assaulting her with loved ones forcing her to kill their lives. Hands slowly rise up in surrender as he exhales slowly hoping to purge the newly acquired information from his body.

Chris: C'mon Pretty Girl. It's me. (Sees hesitance) Okay I'll prove it… tell you something only I know. Whenever you feeling down, you hum the lyrics to Never Gonna Be Alone by Nickleback because the day your mom died you begged her not to leave you… to just stay with you and then she looked at you with those brilliant blue eyes you inherited from her and told you that you'd never be alone. That she's with you every day. I know you Charlie Genevieve Gracin-Chase, better than anyone.

Despite her desire to distrust and stay strong, she desperately needed him right now. The past fifty two hours had been a constant battling for survival, trying to cling onto every good trait of herself instead of thirsting for each kill like her demonic side wanted. She was being pulled in two, constantly in danger of being split in half. She needed some good now.

Lanky arms wrap tightly around his neck, a hug that could definitely be classified as of bear hug proportions. He returns it as a still frame not wanting to hug too tightly against her bruised and injured form but wanting to show his support none the less. Knowing time is of the essence, he forces himself to pull back from her grip and moves his hands to delicately cup her face.

Chris: Pretty Girl, I got you. I got you… but you gotta tell me who's doing this, Char? Who has you… give me any clue to where you are, how to find you and I'll come running. I will not rest 'til I find you.

She knew he meant it. There's a diehard determination behind his promise and he'd search forever just to bring her home… no matter how long it takes. But Piper was eight months pregnant. One month was all they had to save the future. So she chooses to play martyr, sacrificing her well-being for the rest of the world.

Charlie: I have to pay for the sins of my father. It's him Chris. He plants the seed of evil within Wyatt. Save Wyatt and save the future. That's all that matters.

All that matters…

Piercing blue darkens considerably upon realization and in a flash fires danced, rising up and consuming his entire being. He'd been sitting there taking in every bruise, every cut wishing he was part angel so he could heal her. He wanted to puke in his skin at the thought of how she got them and now she was asking him to… no. She wouldn't, couldn't ask him to do this.

Chris: No. You can't be asking me to…  
>Charlie: Forget about me. Yeah, I am.<p>

It takes an effort but she manages to force a smile despite the tears burning in her eyes. His hands fly off her face as if it'd somehow become scalding hot. He couldn't even bear looking into her eyes, finding tears burning in his own eyes. A hand runs slowly down his face and stays on his mouth trying to keep protests from being blurt out but he fails.

Chris: You expect me to not only let you carry this cross alone but nail you to it. Damn it, Char. You're asking me to sacrifice you… make you a casualty of a war. You have no right.

Now she's the one spitting angry with venom in her words that could be lethal to the faint of heart. Her bony finger jabbed into his chest as she yelled but her finger quickly turns into two hands shoving him hard.

Charlie: No, right! No, right! I have every right! Damn it, I've been a part of this since day one and play such a crucial role in that jackass's diabolical plot that it makes me sick.

He shook his head no, avidly. She was innocent in this- a victim of circumstance. She didn't ask for it and sure as hell didn't deserve it. Wyatt and him dragged her into this war. That's the way it was. Right? She didn't think so. Her hands clutch his face, forcing him to look in her eyes, willing him to understand. He had to understand. Lives literally depended on it.

Charlie: He got to Wyatt. Moved us next door and was watching, waiting for that seed to grow and hoped that I'd walk down that road to hell hand in hand with Wyatt. Together we'd rule the world- the three of us. You… you're the wildcard- the hitch in the plan. We were never meant to fall in love but I'm glad we did. You saved me from that fate now please… please, just this once, let me be that someone to save you Chris.

It slips down his cheek. One tear. Two tear. He wonders if it'll ever stop. His heart shatters at her desperate plea and he wants nothing more to desperately cling to them. But piece by piece it's being pulled from him and though he tried with all his might, the last piece is about to be taken from him. His hands hold hers as she cups his face.

Chris: I don't want to be saved. Cast me down to hell and let the flames swallow me whole as long as I can have you now and until the last day of my life. I love you Char. Don't make me lose you. I…I'm not strong enough.  
>Charlie: Don't be an idiot. You're the strongest person I know. Now get your head out of your ass and go be the hero. That's an order Halliwell.<p>

A small snicker slips from his lips as tears stream freely now. Her selfless act of courage and heart pulls the last piece of his into her hands. She had all of him, and within the nothingness that was left he had to find the strength to walk away. In a minute he decides. His lips desperately find hers in what can only be described as a goodbye kiss. It's passion. It's love. It's everything he has left- the last token of love he has the strength to give.

Love.

He knew the risks, knew that giving everything to someone so wholeheartedly could take his with her but it's a risk he'd take a million times, and infinitely after that because he had her however short of a time.

Suddenly the symbolic pain in his chest turns physical. A savage pain exploded in his back as the lumen demon responsible for fucking over the world pressed a glowing hand to Chris's back burning into the meat of his shoulder. Crying out, unable to stand the pain coursing through his body, Chris Halliwell's screams shatter the quietness of the room. In a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain and get the monkey off him, Chris forms an energyball but when he's ready to counterattack the man shimmers away under a cloak of invisibility.

Charles (charlie's dad): I knew she'd deliver you to me… intentionally or non. Let's have some fun.

Review!


	22. Chapter Twenty-One

Summary: "You need someone to save you, Wyatt. And I'm here to tell you, that someone is going to be me. Whatever it takes, cousin." Join the wildcard warrior as he travels back to protect his promise. Au. RevelationFic.  
><strong>IMPORTANT NOTICE! A really amazing person went out of her way to make a youtube video trailer for S2SY. The Trailer URL is in my profile page so make sure you check it out!<br>**Author's note: Hey guys! Sorry for the super long hiatus! Please forgive me! But I'm back and fully intend of finishing S2SY! Thank you to those of you that hung in there .

**_.- -" "- -._**

**(… .(_\.../_)… )**

****{ _"...=-... }xxxxxxx{.. .-=..."_}****

XBballBolin  
>Productions<br>Presents  
>Someone To Save You<br>A Charmed Fan-Fiction  
>By<br>S. Rae Bolin  
>{_.."… … … … … … …""(_}<p>

**Chapter Twenty-One**

Blood curdling cries of a torture ripped through the attic reverberating off the pitched ceilings and shocking Cole Turner into alertness. Through the haze his mind was engulfed in, recognition struck. _Chris_. The cries of his boy sent adrenaline surging through him, shooting him up onto his feet. Over the sea of downed Halliwells starting to stir, blue orbs scan finding his son on the opposite side of the podium thrashing about wildly as phantom tears were being sliced across his arms and chest, jagged lacerations spewing crimson onto his white Henley.

Noticing the other's finally beginning to stir, the concerned father slips past groggy forms to his son's side. Scooping him into his arms, Cole pulls him close. Chris bred a number of things in the man he didn't know possible; clarity from insanity, love from hatred, humanity from the demonic… direction, beauty, meaning. He was whole with Chris, directed towards being better. He'd be damned if he'd lose his son; he just found him.

Clasping hands over gaping wounds, Cole attempted to stem the blood flow while shouting for the rest of the occupants of the attic to awaken. In an attempt to stem the blood flow of the more jagged cuts until Leo could do something, Cole cauterized the wounds with fireballs burning into this flesh causing already blood curdling cries to intensify.

Paige is the first of the rest of the Halliwell clan to her feet. Immediately, she began pulling the others to their feet and racing towards the book. With the to call a lost witch spell glaring at them, Paige and Piper rolled their eyes towards Phoebe who instantly felt guilty for bringing up the spell in a previous conversation with him. But there was no time for guilt, only saving her. With the reversal spell conveniently on the opposite page, the sisters read:

"Return thy love  
>Wherever he be<br>Through time and space  
>Bring him back<br>To us"

Their chants immediately take hold ripping the half-breed from that nightmarish place and back into his own skin. Pain tears through his entire being, the healing sensation not taking over fast enough. His hands clasp onto his father's forearm wrapped tightly in a desperate attempt to alleviate the pain but even after his wounds are healed, turning into scars upon his flesh.

"It's okay son," he sooths whispering softly trying to ease his son's pain. "I've got you."

xXx

They'd set him up on the couch to rest, but rest was never something he'd known. Climbing to his feet, he moved down the stairs and into the bathroom, the cool tile beneath his feet adding to the coldness he felt eating away at his body. Turning on the faucet he watches as water spewed down into the sink. Then he dips cupped hands beneath the spout allowing it to pool in his hands and splashing it up into his face. A heavy hand runs over his face and his baby blues darken to an unfeeling navy as he stares at his reflection. Looking at his mirrored image, he doesn't see himself staring back but the beast inside, the demon within awoken.

A knocking on the door snaps his attention away from his discovery.

"Chris," Phoebe calls, worry evident. "Is everything okay in there?"

His lips move to answer that he's fine but he doesn't make a sound. Lying for the benefit of others, caring about feelings, it all seemed so trivial to him now. All that mattered was finding Charles, ripping his still-beating heart from his chest, and saving the future once and for all. In a flurry of red and orange flames, Chris escapes the warmth of his family.

xXx

Deep down in the Underworld, through chambers, caverns, and around volcanic holes he moved until he found the particular cavern he was looking for. Then, through the dimly lit cavern a brilliant ray of fire expelled from his extended hand annihilating target after target with a ruthless act. As they awoke and tried to fight back they spewed their acidic venom- these snake/lizard-like demons- he extended his shield into a bubble surrounding his entire being where the green goop just slid off until there were no more.

Now, the sand beneath his feet is sprayed with the blood of the demonic forces he'd slaughtered, carcasses, and acidic goop. The extensive act barely even broke a sweat and even that was probably from the heat of his flames. It didn't matter their capabilities in the future, now they were not worthy of even henchmen status and would have no idea where to find what he so desperately sought out.

"Where are you?"

xXx

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?" Cole blurts disbelief evident. It was "Phoebe, where's my son?!"

Almost guiltily, Phoebe bobs her head unable to take the emotions swirling desperately in his eyes. Not even twenty-four hours after the dad bomb was dropped and Cole took to fatherhood like he'd never been anything but. When Chris was in pain, he was his comfort. When Chris needed him, he was there. When Chris's judgment was clouded, Cole wanted to be his clarity. There was something admirable about that, something that leaked into his desperation that made her feel guilty for something she had no control over.

"I don't know… I'm sorry," she whispers before turning to him, an absoluteness in her demeanor, "But I've got Paige scrying for him and Piper reworking the To Call A Lost Witch spell in order to bring him back as a last resort. It'll just take a few minutes."

Her hand slips onto his forearm in a comforting fashion and, once upon a time, he would have longed for this touch. But now he'd numbed himself to love finding it the driving force behind his son's irrational behavior. "Tell them to stop wasting their time. I guarantee Chris knows every trick you guys have up your sleeves and has already taken countermeasures," Cole says frustration evident. "Not even two days as a parent and I've already lost my kid. Great."

There was remorse in his tone, the humanity that made her fall in love with him all that time ago showed itself again making her want to help him all the more. The cogs in her head turned with a fury, everything she knew about Chris swirling in search for an idea to cut him off before he did something really stupid. Then it hit her with the force of a ten ton mac truck.

"The penthouse."

"Excuse me?"

"If he's going to war, he'll need his weapons," she says becoming more and more positive that's where he's headed."

"Yeah, but he's probably got an arsenal at the place he'd been hiding Charlie," Cole rations.

But Phoebe knew what he didn't see. Chris had built a small world for him and Charlie within the four walls and going there without her- not knowing if she'd ever be back- would be a fate worse than death in his eyes. Holding out her hand for him to take and orb him off, she whispers, "You're just going to have to trust me on this one."

xXx

A heavy cloud hung over the city of angels mirroring the mood of the soldier perfectly. His eyes set focused on the darkening skyline not wavering in their stare as they waited for their prey to come to them. This was an approach that the solider loathed. The killer instincts within him grew restless longing for the thrill of the hunt. He grew more and more impatient- an inner storm swirling around in an angry torrent- a thunderous sound mimicking a cracking whip echoes through the air and a lightning flash shows through the spacious penthouse almost declaring he'd had enough waiting around.

"Alright, enough of this waiting shit," growls Junior.

Past the random soldiers, he looks to the man that held his leash frustration growing as his lordship seemed to ignore his outburst. Wyatt sat upon a wooden chair with golden accents, his face as stoic as ever and his legs slightly spread in a comfortable fashion and arms on the rests as he casually flipped through the phone.

"C'mon Wy," Junior whined, "let me go get him. I'll serve him up on a silver platter."

It is then that Wyatt lifts his eyes from the phone flipping it shut and climbing to his feet. There's a poised almost royal demeanor in his walk as he crosses the room to Junior. "Patience is a virtue you've not been given, cousin. Neither is forethought apparently. We've got all the means to take Christopher down right here and going after him will only get you killed, or worse, turn you against me."

"That would never happen," the soldier contested, fists balled against such a heinous accusation.

"It's good to know but you don't get to where I am without seeing every possibility so if you trust my judgment then you'll sit here and wait."

But the conversation was moot, their waiting ceased. A torrent of red, orange, and golden hues exploded after originating from the demon's chest. After the flames clear Chris stands his fist drenched in the black blood of the demonic foot soldier.

"The wait's over," Chris declares through gritted teeth. "Hello, Wyatt."

Add fuel to the fire  
>And help inspire<br>Review!  
>And thanks to those of you who did on the previous chapter!<br>Sorry for the super long wait!

Stina Whatever  
>crlncyln<br>Dragon Lover  
>fan-de-carlisle-cullen<p> 


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